Sea of Sorrow
by Eric Draven201
Summary: Vengence consumes Vergil when Dante is murdered. Rated for bloody violence. Complete.
1. Dirge

**A/N:** Take it how you will. I wanted see if I can get angsty too. I do not own DMC or its characters... Capcom's getting rich off them. Also if you wanted to know where the title came from, it is named after the Alice in Chains song.

_I made some slight edits few hours after the original post... Hopefully its easier to read and it flows better._

If you see ANY spelling or grammatical mistakes, please let me know. Fresh eyes are greatly appreciated!

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Sea of Sorrow

Chapter 1: Dirge

Vergil stood only a few feet from the open black lacquered casket, almost too afraid to look inside. He stood in the same spot for what seemed to him like an eternity. A hand grasped his shoulder, snapping him out his trance.

He turned to see Trish with arms slightly out-stretched and her baby blue eyes welling up with tears. She held him in a warm embrace, the very same that Eva had used to comfort him so many years ago. It pained Trish to see him this way. Vergil, the son of Sparda was always so emotionally detached.

This sociopathic detachment had always been a defense mechanism to protect his human heart; it reared its head when his father disappeared and when Eva died. He didn't cry then. No, that snow-topped ten-year-old boy did not shed a single tear at his mother's funeral, trying his best to be strong… at least for Dante's sake.

Trish's arms were still wrapped around Vergil when she absorbed all she could at the time. He had traded his traditional blue battle garb for the black slacks and sweater of mourning. His normally spiked platinum locks were now in more subdued, neat emo fringes, almost reminiscent of Dante's own style. It nearly felt as if Vergil was Dante himself.

Without a word she somehow coaxed Vergil closer to the casket to view the body. His eyes were swollen red from tears he could no longer cry. Vergil managed to peer inside. It was lined in crimson satin. The very color sent images of what happened a week ago through Vergil's head. _Blood… There's so much blood. I have to stop the bleeding. "Hang on! Please, STAY WITH ME!"_

He begrudgingly continued to look inside at the body starting with its hands. Fingers gently interlocked, holding Ivory in place at about mid-chest. Vergil had made it his resolve to keep Ebony as a memento and to bury _him_ with Ivory, just as Dante had done for Lady with Kalina Ann nearly two years ago.

Vergil continued to take in the man lying before him. He had been dressed in a simple funeral suit, the same that he wore to Lady's. His eyes trailed up to his face, his mirror image. The same silver hair neatly combed back with some of the tuft slightly obscuring his right eye. His seemingly sleeping face held a slim serene smile. It was amazing what a mortician could do to make the deceased look so peaceful no matter the circumstances of death. Vergil absent-mindedly stroked the hair out of his brother's face as he recounted what happen.

* * *

If Vergil hadn't known any better, he would have thought his brother was sleeping, at first glance. He stood in the doorway scarcely understanding what was unfolding. Directly across from him sat the white-haired devil hunter. His shoulders slumped; head slightly bowed and back precariously supported by the foot of an unmade full-sized bed. 

There sat Dante in a puddle of his own blood with a cursed athame sizzling in the loose grip of his right hand and a photo of Lady in the left. He was clad in black dress slacks, white button down dress shirt and a slackened black tie; casket sharp. His sleeves were rolled up just past his forearms to reveal a series of terribly deep gashes. Dante's shirt was already soaking up vast amounts of blood from a substantial chest wound.

_Why isn't he healing? There's so much blood. I have to stop the bleeding,_ Vergil immediately thought. He rushed in to his brother's side. Without delay, Vergil fell to his knees gasping for air and feeling sick to his stomach. _W__hat is this_, _some kind of barrier,_ he thought. He looked around again and saw glyphs written in chalk encircling him and his brother. Dante's blood had already enclosed around Vergil. With a blood-covered hand, Vergil managed to erase a few of the runes, nullifying the spell. Almost automatically, Vergil was breathing much easier.

He made his way to Dante, kneeling in the puddle. Vergil touched his twin's shoulder ever so slightly. The athame clattered to the floor. Dante collapsed onto his side making contact with the pool of blood. His silver hair was instantaneously saturated in crimson. The sight alone made Vergil want to vomit.

Having nowhere else to go, Vergil turned Dante onto his back and began to assess him and tear at the bed sheets for makeshift bandages. "Trish! Lucia! I need your help," Vergil screamed out.

Vergil placed his fingers on Dante's neck to feel for a carotid pulse. It was weak and very thready. His breathing was already so shallow that Vergil's demon enhanced hearing had difficulty picking up on it. "Trish! Lucia," he called again, still not realizing that they had gone out earlier.

His attention snapped back to Dante, whose eyelids were already narrowing into slits.

"No! Hang on! Stay wake… Please, st-stay with me," he nearly shouted with tears forming. Dante feebly tried to respond, only more blood burbled and oozed out the sides of his mouth, staining his paler than usual complexion.

Dante let out a string of wet coughs and labored breaths. "Verg," he tried to appeal, voice barely audible. His once brilliant azure eyes were now a dull gray. They were strangely accepting of the inevitable. Vergil couldn't even bring himself to look Dante in the eyes. "Shhh… Dante conserve your strength. Try not to speak," he soothed, cleaning the blood off his twin's mouth.

Vergil looked up at the door hoping, praying if he ever did, that either Trish or Lucia heard his calls.

He turned back his brother, "Dante?" No response. Vergil's eyes grew wide in horror when he realized that Dante's heart had stopped. "No! No. No," he said in near denial. He finally remembered a gold orb that he always kept on his person. He tried and it didn't work.

Vergil immediately started CPR. "Don't… you… dare… leave… me," his words punctuated by compressions, determined to bring his brother back one way or another. He kept trying and calling for help that would never arrive.

Vergil sank back when he recognized that his attempts were in vain. He tried his best to choke back the sobs that came rushing forth without his permission.

Probably near insane now, Vergil sat behind Dante with his back against the bed. He placed Dante's head in his lap, began caressing his hair and absently humming the ghost of a tune from years past. Lady's picture lay floating on the ruddy tide.

Vergil stared straight ahead as Trish and Lucia walked into the room less than five minutes later. Upon seeing the scene before them, their eyes bulged and mouth agape; they dropped their shopping bags and quickly found themselves at the twins' side. For a short while only silence and the sickening copper scent of warm blood wafted through the air.

"OH MY GOD," Trish screamed and promptly understood the shear volume of her voice and the irony of her statement. She continued sensitively, "Is he-" Vergil didn't make eye contact. Didn't even utter a word. "What should we-" Lucia was cut off when Vergil brought himself to his feet and walk out the room.

Within minutes the police were there taking photos and statements. Dante's room was tapped off. Detectives conversing, comparing notes, commenting on the scores of trophy skulls, weapons and talismans. Vergil cooperated with the police even if some had settled in their minds that he had done it.

Some thirty minutes later, they wrapped things up and carried out a body bag.

* * *

Vergil was now a repast at Devil May Cry, standing by the metal grated stairs staring at his cup of coffee. The place was thoroughly "cleaned" with weapons and other demonic kick-knacks stored away. He mindlessly swirled it allowing the light to catch at it. People that he didn't know surrounded him; mainly neighbors and people Dante had saved. 

Through no fault of his own, he caught onto tidbits of conversation that danced about the room:

"Suicide? I can't believe that he'd do that to himself." …

"He was a nice enough guy."...

"Stay gothic long enough, it'll happen." …

"I feel sorry for his brother… what's his name… Vincent?"…

"How sad. First his wife and now him."

He couldn't take it any more… he had to get away.

Vergil trekked upstairs to Dante's room and lay face down across the bed that hadn't been touched since that day.

"Where's Vergil," Trish asked.

"He went upstairs," said Lucia, "You go… I'll host."

Trish nodded and went up to check on Vergil. "Verg," Trish asked knocking on the doorjamb.

"Only Dante could call me that," he answered bitterly. Trish shouldn't have been, but she felt hurt by his words. He saw it in her eyes.

"Sorry," He finally said, "What do you need?"

She walked into the room, side-stepping the spots where blood seeped into floor and sat on the bed next to Vergil. She rubbed his back in comfort and let out a small sigh.

"I knew Dante a long while before I met you," she said thoughtfully, "And I knew he was going through a rough time when Lady died… I wasn't there for him and I am _so_ sorry, Vergil."

Hearing this Vergil straightened himself and promptly said, "Dante did not kill himself." His cerulean eyes were now burning with a passionate, deeper blue.

"But," she said softly, "They found beyond fatal doses of blood thinners, tranquilizers _and_ alcohol in his system. All signs point to-"

"No," he said abruptly, "I would understand the alcohol, but the others were misdirection. The spell on the floor and athame found in his hand. No devil or half-devil can ever use them. The drugs just made things easier. Whoever murdered my brother was…" Vergil trailed off.

Trish looked up to see Vergil standing at the door, his back to her and with Yamato in hand, "Human," he finished. His voice was cold with hatred as he said the word. Before Trish could intervene, Vergil had already disappeared.

* * *

Where's Vergil off to? 

_Reviews are my anti-drug. _


	2. Aftermath

**A/N:** Soooooo….. Thanks to Chrome, Morwenya, Lady Luce and Monkey-Girl-XoX this is no longer a one shot.

**Disclaimer:** Capcom owns DMC and its characters… The Sisters of Light are MINE!

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Chapter 2: Aftermath 

On that very day, Lucia, to Trish's relief, became Vergil's voice of reason; convincing him that he couldn't simply massacre the entire human race in search of Dante's murderer.

"Let me be," he shouted snatching away from Lucia's grip.

"No," she yelled back in a hushed tone as to not alarm the guests. She grabbed at his black wool sleeve and pushed him against a wall with one arm. He was only a few inches taller than her, but staring in to his angelic features made her feel so insignificant. She gazed into his steely-blue eyes and sternly said, "You're angry, I get it. But does that give you permission to rampage through the streets? Does it give you the right? Not everyone here is your enemy."

Her eyes softened as she said, "Don't give the police the satisfaction of naming you as a suspect and don't let your rage serve as fuel to the underworld… Dante wouldn't want to see you this way." She reached out an arm while keeping him pinned to the wall. He saw Lucia's gesture just outside his periphery and handed Yamato over to her. The hatred and fury disappeared from his face and she let go.

Vergil hadn't done much of anything since the funeral. He spent most of his time on the rooftop of Devil May Cry polishing Yamato and practicing his swordsmanship. After all, he had to make sure he could defeat this monster. He wanted Dante's killer to suffer.

He didn't eat much to begin with and after Dante's death he didn't seem to eat at all. So much so that Lucia and Trish tried to force-feed him; to no avail. He'd lay awake at night, too afraid to fall asleep; too afraid to see those images of his brother choking on his own blood. In his waking moments, he'd often be too dazed to speak. His eyes glazed over with insomnia.

To him the days seemed to bleed together; the same routines just to keep his mind occupied. When not training, he was out chasing leads, shaking down local Wiccan covens for information on the athame. Each time played out the same and the witches gave the same answers.

He'd kick down the doors and demand in a demonic voice, "**Take me to your High Priest**!" They would cast their spells or use whatever amulets or talisman to ward him away. They however wouldn't work because he wasn't completely a demon. They would quickly realize that it wouldn't be feasible to eject the unwanted visitor through the use of majicks and allow him to see the High Priest or Priestess.

Once in the presence of the person in charge, he would then show evidence photos of the athame and chalk runes. The leader would usually tell him, "We know nothing of these spells… try this other coven, they may know about it."

His one true lead came he paid a visit to the Sisters of Light.

Vergil stepped onto the porch of a Victorian style house dressed in his regal blue attire, but still hadn't bothered to gel his hair up. Before he could build enough ire to break in, a red haired woman clad in white opened the door. "Welcome, Vergil," she said, "We've been expecting you." He raised a hoary eyebrow at her salutation and entered, still on his guard.

She led him into the living room arranged with hand-carved antique mahogany furniture covered in pearl white upholstery. Swirl patterns coated the pastered wall and bordered with mahogany crown molding. The blinding white hues were a theme that reoccurred throughout the house and was only balanced by the dark woods.

She gestured Vergil to a seat across from her. He noticed the patterns were actually runes. He uneasily sat down and looked around the room with Yamato held in a tight, white-knuckle grasp.

The woman glanced at Vergil's sword and casually said, "I wouldn't worry about that if I were you. This house is enchanted. So violence is impossible for both humans and demons alike."

She gestured for a veiled woman to enter the room. She appeared to float across the floor in a similar white dress with an orange sash around her waist. She bent down and whispered into the redhead's ear and a response whispered back. The woman bowed and left.

The redhead crossed her legs and began, "I apologize, Vergil, I haven't properly introduced myself. I am Sister Aurora." She reached over the coffee table to shake his hand. He hesitantly took her hand in his.

Aurora sat back and continued, "I am the High Priestess, and I believe that you have questions for me. Well, I promise you I have answers." The veiled woman returned with a tray of assorted delectable pastries with two teacups and a decorative, antique teapot. "Thank you, Sister Arinna." She bowed and left again.

Ever the gracious host, Aurora poured tea for Vergil and herself and offered some of the pastries. Vergil thanked her and helped himself to the tea, but passed on the pastries despite having not eaten in nearly a week and a half.

Aurora sipped her tea, placed it on the coffee table and began again, "Our coven holds the area's most powerful witches; witches that most other covens won't accept because of what their powers may attract. Here we can live in peace and begin anew under the names of sun-goddesses we choose to exemplify. Dante had been an ally in our war against evil for many years."

"You knew my brother?"

"Oh yes. He was our… Champion," she said searching for the right word, "Sometimes he hunted the demons with us and even defended us from the covens that were against us. Ah… he had an indomitable spirit, he would never give up, no matter how tough things got. It was so sad to hear of his passing."

She took another sip of tea and then said looking into his eyes, "This is not why you came here. Tell me Vergil, what brings you here?"

"These," he said passing her the photos. She studied them carefully. She passed back the photo of the athame and said, "This is ours."

She pointed out the gold sun insignia inlayed on the hilt, "This has three rays on it, denoting that the owner of this blade was initiated three years ago. And these glyphs are a binding spell." She held the photo of the chalk runes. "We don't use it that often because it is simply too dangerous. It appears to be a _very_ old spell that very few people know. Hmm… How curious."

"What," asked Vergil.

"You see this," Aurora passed the photo back, "These are dual glyphs, making this a double bind. Some of these symbols tell me that this particular spell was meant to drain the target of his power and transfer it to the spell caster while physical restraining him. By all accounts, a third year shouldn't be able to do this spell, let alone knowing about its existence. It's just too intense. So what makes you – oh – OH MY GOODNESS! I am so sorry!" She said the last bit with a gasp finally understanding, _why_ Vergil came.

"I'm so sorry," she said again rushing over to hug Vergil. He sat numbly unable to hug back. She could _feel_ how deep his sorrow ran.

"I want to know who did this," Vergil said with burning sapphire orbs meeting her jade eyes. She looked away, unsure whether or not she should tell him. Aurora stood up and walked to the cozy fireplace just to the left of their current position and placed her hands on the mantle.

"I have an idea of who you may be looking for. She came to us a few years ago wanting to control her powers. She was still only a child then, but her exceptional abilities _scared_ me. We took her in and began working with her, even taking her out on hunts… I see now that doing so was a mistake. Once she killed her first devil, she was obsessed." She picked up a photo album on the mantle and brought it back to her original seat.

She began flipping through it and continued, "On one of our patrols, she met Dante and fell in love him. We called it schoolgirl crush and left it at that. Soon she refused go with us if Dante wasn't going to be there. He once enlisted our help on one of his missions. She fought along side him and was captured by a demon. Well, Dante transformed and saved her. She had harbored a lot of hatred for the devils and she hated Dante when she found out what he was, despite what he had done for her. She was only fifteen at the time, but she had a difficult time understanding that some devils are not just black and white; that not all are evil. About a month ago she packed up her things and left. We hadn't heard from her since."

"This is her," Aurora passed a photo to Vergil. She had brown hair, brown eyes and skin like mocha with a cherubial face. Vergil's brow furrowed. He wanted to see Dante's killer brought to justice, but he didn't _do_ kids. He passed the photo back.

"She went by Malina when she was here and was considered a third year when she left. Poor kid, she was so confused… Um, if it's true that she used the spell, she'll need somewhere to rest up…" she paused. "Please, bring her back to us," Aurora cried desperately.

"I'll think about it," Vergil said frostily, standing to leave. She also stood, out of respect and said, "A spirit never dies, and instead it is recycled. Who knows, you may see him again." She bowed and he left.

Once on the porch, Vergil realized that he had been with Aurora for hours, for it was already dark. He trudged along back home.

Once past the threshold of Devil May Cry, a torrential rainstorm began. He quietly closed the front door behind him. The lack of light suggested that the women had already gone to bed and Vergil should do the same.

He started up the metal stairs and saw a man standing on the top landing. A flash of lightening illuminated the room for the briefest of seconds. The man was wearing black dress pants, a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a partially undone tie. The man turned and began walking down the hall. Seeing the man, made Vergil throw all caution to the wind. He raced up the stairs and nearly tripped.

"Hey, wait," Vergil said in a low voice, trying not to rouse the women. He got up to the top landing and a few feet into the hall before he saw the man walk casually into Dante's room. He quickly followed the man into the room. Once inside, Vergil saw that the room was empty. He searched again to see dress shoes on the fire escape, just outside the window.

Vergil vaulted out the window and onto the walkway, trailing him again to the roof. He sprinted up the ladder to see the man standing on the edge of the opposite side of the roof. More flashes of lightening to see that the rain avoided the man, where as Vergil was drenched. He approached the man slowly and shouted angrily, "Who are you?"

The winds briefly changed directions and Vergil could see the man's silver hair flutter and glisten in the night. "Dante?"

The man looked over his shoulder and smiled. The rain stopped. The man transformed into blinding, pure white light, scattered and drifted away. Vergil's eyes readjusted once the light dissipated. The man was gone and something shinning in the moonlight lay in his place.

Vergil walked over to it. His eyes grew wide when he recognized it. He picked it up and cradled it. Ivory.

_Dante_, Vergil thought with a tears falling squarely on the Colt 1911.

**

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**A/N: **The Sisters of Light are named after real sun-goddesses.

Aurora- from Roman mythology, but known as "Eos" in Greek mythology (more accurately the goddess of dawn)

Arinna- from Middle Eastern mythology, mainly in Hittite cult

Malina- from Inuit mythology, mainly in Greenland

Edit - I can't confirm whether Dante's handguns are Colts or Berettas... but some firearms experts have interesting explanations. Originally, I wrote Ivory as a Colt .45, I was wrong... they look more like the 1911. (I was thinking of Vash's handgun from _Trigun_) Then again I can still be wrong. (Thanks Luce for clearing that up)

Sorry there's not a lot of action in this chapter... review and I see you next time


	3. Once More Undone

_Thanks to all the reviewers and people who added this fic! Y'all should know the drill by now... I don't own DMC or its characters, but I do own the detectives, the Sisters, and Seth. If you see any mistakes, please let me know (Fresh eyes are greatly appreciated!) Enjoy and don't forget to review._

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Chapter 3: Once More… Undone

Was it really him or was that a hallucination? No sleep and no food will do that to you. The better part of Vergil's reasoning doubted the encounter, but still he couldn't shake the feeling that seeing Dante again was real. After all, he left behind the gun he was buried with.

At any rate, Vergil had bigger fish to fry; he had to find this Malina.

If Vergil's source was right, Malina needed a place to stay after using that much power to kill Dante; therefore, she was not far from Devil May Cry. But where to start?

Vergil understood what Aurora was telling him. In their brief encounter, she not only told him that Malina was extremely powerful, but she most likely had an accomplice, someone who had been in the coven for quite sometime. Someone harbored the same hatred for demons, purebloods and half-breeds alike. That someone may be concealing the girl right now.

He decided that he would force the perpetrators out of hiding. He would put Dante in plain sight.

Vergil had always been the thinner of the two, but still… he might be able to pull it off. He left the rooftop and headed for the shower. He went through his usual motions. The warm water would lull him to close his eyes and he'd see it; _blood soaking into Dante's hair_. He'd smell it; _the warm metallic scent in the air_. He'd hear it; _Dante gasping for air_. He'd feel it; _the pulse slowing to a stop_. And he'd taste it; _the rage rising from the pit of his stomach_.

Every single time, his senses betrayed him.

Vergil awoke from his reoccurring nightmare, turned off the shower, grabbed a towel and dried off. He went to Dante's room and went through his closet and found what he was going to wear.

Vergil donned a pair of baggy, dark blue jeans, a black tee-shirt with 'Black Sabbath' silk-screened in red across the chest. He decided to complete the look with a red hooded jacket and a pair of black, half-laced combat boots.

He even brushed his hair into Dante's signature style and practiced the cocky, lopsided grin that his brother had taken years to perfect. Tonight, for all intents and purposes, _he_ was Dante.

He stepped into the hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Trish stumble out of her room dressed in a white satin teddy and a black satin mid-length robe. She sleepily bumped into Vergil.

"Oh. Sorry, Ver—" Her drowsy eyes focused on what Vergil was wearing.

"What are you doing?"

At first sight of Vergil, Trish's emotions ran the gamut from shock to hurt to pissed. Lethargy evaporated. She was so upset that she couldn't look him in the eye. She stepped closer to him with her eyes trained to the floor.

"How could you?"

Vergil didn't answer.

"How can you stand there dressed in _that_?!"

Tears stung at Trish's eyes as she looked at the ghost before her. "We know you miss him, but _we_ miss him too and _this_ doesn't help," she gestured to his clothes.

"You not sleeping and eating aren't helping. My God, you dropped ten pounds in a week. You keep this up you'll simply waste away."

He looked away, turning his head to the right and looking at the floor. Trish bent down to once again establish eye contact.

"Do you not care that Lucia and I are worried about you? Are you that callous? Are you that much of a devil," her tone driving into his heart.

"I don't have time for this," Vergil finally said pushing Trish aside. With that he grabbed Yamato and worked his way to the streets.

What would he do? What was the plan, really? Vergil rarely ever acted on impulse. To him, every small detail must be meticulously deliberated. Every contingency accounted for. Every action executed with finesse.

It wasn't long before he could sense the police tailing him. There they were parked in unmarked cars outside his home; and once again when he took a subway across town. He sat on the train quietly as it rumbled down the track. He stared out of the window into the blackness of the tunnel, sometimes catching his own reflection and the others.

There on the same car, sat an old man reading a book across the aisle from Vergil. Another man in business suit entered the car, speaking loudly into his cell phone. A few rows behind him sat a couple of teenage girls arguing whether or not the man in front of them was in fact Dante, the lead singer of a band they saw in a club a month ago.

"Just look at him. He has the white hair and… it's the same face," one girl said seeing his face reflected from the window.

"No he's not. Don't you ever watch the news? Dante died like a couple weeks ago. I think it was suicide or something." Vergil didn't attempt to respond the girl's comment.

At least Vergil's plan was working… in passing.

He noticed a woman on the far end of the car with an infant in a carriage. It was quite evident to Vergil that the infant was a doll. A young courier entered the car with a bike followed by a young woman.

_Why am I being followed? Why so many? The Coroner ruled Dante's death a suicide. Perhaps Lucia and Trish tipped off the police._

Just before the next stop, Vergil stood and walked to the door. He turned his head slightly and said, "Undercover cops, huh? How long were you going to keep up this charade? With the exception of the two girls in the back, you all are doing a pitiful job of it. I only ask that next time you follow me about, you aren't so obvious about it." He gripped Yamato in his left hand and stepped off the train.

----

"What?! He made seven undercover officers... all at once?"

"Yes, sorry Chief. You should know that the number includes the two young ladies we hired as informants. Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted," said the burly uniformed police officer from behind his desk.

The younger officer continued, "In my opinion, we should use new and less officers on this particular case. Everything needs to be handled carefully. I personally think this guy is powder keg, ready to explode. He has delusions that his brother was murdered and he roams the streets with a katana. He's definitely out for blood. Thankfully, he hasn't attacked anyone yet."

"Hmm. I see. He hasn't done anything wrong… yet, but hiding in the shadows and following him like he's a common criminal isn't going to help matters. Some of my men are even afraid to approach him for questioning. You're right; he needs to be handled delicately. There is going to be a briefing down the hall in ten minutes. I expect you to be there," the chief said rising from his seat.

"Good morning, everyone."

"Good morning."

"For those who do not know, I am Chief of Operations, Parker. From what we've seen last night, this case isn't going to be simple. Our mark, also known as Vergil, has been on our radar for quite some time. In the past he and his brother, Dante have been wanted in connection with several missing persons cases and put up for a few assault charges. Unfortunately, there were no charges that could stick. At any rate, we have new officers joining us, so now we going to do a brief overview with our profiler. Johnson?"

"Thank-you sir," a slim man dressed in a gray power suit walked to the front of the conference room and began a PowerPoint presentation containing maps and assorted pictures of Vergil and Dante.

"This is Dante," Johnson began, "He was the lead vocalist and guitarist for the local Indie-Rock band, 'En Fuego'. He committed a rather messy suicide fourteen days ago." He scrolled through the crime scene photos and then came to a photo of Vergil.

"Vergil, Dante's twin brother, believes that something else happened. In fact he is quite adamant that someone murdered his brother. He is still out there terrorizing people he thinks serve as a connection to Dante's death. Fortunately, no one has been hurt as of late." Johnson switched to a full photo of Vergil dressed in his trademark blue trench coat, black leather vest, leather pants, tan boots and finger-less gloves. The photo also accounted the details of his fluffy cravat and spiked, platinum hair.

Johnson began again, "He doesn't dress much like this anymore, but we will begin with his appearance. Vergil has blue eyes and white hair. He is actually in his mid to late forties, but still appears to be in his late teens or early twenties. Don't we all wish we had his genes?" He paused for the gallery chuckles.

"Vergil is approximately six feet tall and he weighs about one hundred forty-five pounds. He may seem like a lightweight, but he is deceptively strong." Johnson clicked to the next photo.

"This here is known Gibbs," indicating a large man in a full body cast, "Three months ago, he admitted to an attempted mugging. He was armed with a gun and attacked whom he described as 'a tall, well-dressed, skinny man'. Upon inspection of surveillance photos, it is clear the man Gibbs attacked was Vergil. He was close to a hundred pounds heavier than our target. Unluckily, for him Vergil broke nearly every bone in his body."

He went to a photo of Vergil dressed in a set of Dante's clothes. "Judging from the earlier photo, Vergil can be viewed as somewhat of an aristocrat. He thinks highly of himself. He is quiet, reserved, and polite; a perfect gentleman if you will. He calls the sword he carries around, 'Yamato'. It is a modified katana. We believe that it was a family heirloom. Anyone who has seen him practice on his rooftop knows that could potentially be deadly with that blade. Like his older brother, Dante was an excellent swordsman as well as a firearms expert."

He regarded the current photo and said, "Now that Dante is gone, it seems that Vergil has become disassociative, almost as if losing Dante caused him to lose an apart of himself. It appears that Vergil dresses as him in order to become him. He may be losing a sense of reality, which can be dangerous. That picture of Gibbs illustrates that Vergil has a lot of rage, but it _is_ controlled. Imagine what he would have done to Gibbs if he weren't in control."

He paused to take a sip of bottled water and said, "He still keeps his sword on his person. However, the good news is that he probably disapproves of the use of guns or other weapons and he hasn't used his sword yet. It is very difficult to track this man. Many officers report that they were tailing Vergil in one moment and then he would disappear in the next. They also say that he _knows_ when you are following and he lets you know that he knows."

Johnson gathered his thoughts and spoke again after a brief pause. "Hmm… Losing a loved one is tough and a sibling is just the same if not harder. But imagine the loss of a twin. It's enough to leave anyone… undone," he began again after another brief pause, "Vergil is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous; approach with caution. He is unstable, so be careful of your words and actions. In front of you are detailed dossiers on his daily routines, where he lives, his roommates, and his local haunts. Read them carefully and construct your own tactics. Remember use extreme caution. Good luck and dismissed."

"Thank you, Johnson," said Parker, "Team A, you'll take the first watch."

The remaining detectives filed out of the room

So they followed. They tailed him all morning and into the night. He knew, but he didn't care. Vergil had become a man possessed. His mission _was_ Malina.

Out of nowhere, Vergil could sense an overwhelming feeling of familiarity. It reminded him of… home. Without another thought, he chased the sensation to V Street. It led him to a nightclub.

The 9:30 Club. Dante's band had played there many times before and yet Vergil had never been. Vergil somehow made his way in, past the dancing crowds unnoticed. He pushed himself closer; closer to the pounding music, closer to the stage.

The sheer heat generated by the many bodies made Vergil take off his jacket. No sooner, either... lest the bright red attract unwanted attention.

As soon as he reached midway to the stage, the song that pulsed through the sound system ended and a band walked onto the platform. Cheers and applause engulfed the place.

"Who are they," Vergil heard a conversation just behind him.

"You don't know? That's Relic. They sing their own songs, but mainly cover other artists' songs."

A young man stepped ahead of the band and began playing the opening guitar riffs of Alice in Chains' "Man in the Box". His shoulder-length hair was black as obsidian, eyes shimmering emeralds and skin as pale and smooth as milk.

His scrawny physique was made smaller by his jet black garb. Only his silver chains and skulls on his belt provided some contrast.

Ebony painted nails strummed expertly. His bubblegum lips parted to vocalize the lyrics:

_I'm the man in the box_

_Buried in my shit_

_Won't you come and save me_

_Save me..._

He appeared to be about sixteen, but his voice seemed to be much more mature than his years; a deep timbre rolling in his throat that would captivated anyone.

"They're pretty good!"

"I know! They're awesome! They kinda remind me of En Fuego"

"Yeah! I wonder why."

_Feed my eyes, can you sew them shut? _

_Jesus Christ, deny your maker _

_He who tries, will be wasted _

_Feed my eyes now you've sewn them shut_

Vergil watched and listened. _Who is this kid?_

The boy's bone-straight hair hovered just above his shoulders. With each graceful motion, it floated as if he were underwater. Vergil was able to barely make out the glowing red aura that surrounded the boy.

By his guitar solo, the aura grew and brightened. Vergil allowed the lyrics and tune to fade away into total silence. The audience danced and cheered wildly with no sound.

The boy grasped at the microphone and belted out no words. Vergil observed the boy's odd yet familiar stage mannerisms.

The boy made eye contact with Vergil. The gleaming emeralds stared down the icy sapphires. By then, Vergil's suspicions were confirmed. The boy wasn't who his fans thought he was.

Vergil stood in the crowd and watched the entire set, keeping an eye on the boy; he did the same.

The band ended their set with Audioslave's "Cochise". The boy's guitar was already dangling behind his back from the previous song.

The boy grabbed his guitar and whipped it around his body and played the almost staccato starting notes. He inhaled and belted the opening vocals.

_Well I've watching_

_While you've been coughing_

_I've been drinking life_

_While you been nauseous_

_So I drink to health_

_While you kill yourself_

_And I got just one thing that I can offer_

_Go on and save yourself_

_And take it out on me... _

That hypnotic voice enraptured everyone, including Vergil.

After a while, the band played their final notes and bowed. They boy announced into the microphone, "Thank you! You've been great."

The emcee stepped onto the stage and shouted, "Let's here it again for Relic!"

With that, Vergil cued himself backstage, slipping past eager fans and security.

He made his way past the labyrinth of meeting rooms and groupies and entered a dressing room that was normally reserved for the acts. The boy was in the far left corner of the room scooping sugar in a blue ceramic mug.

"You take two sugars in your tea, right?"

Vergil didn't answer, but instead stepped closer to him.

The boy turned and extended the cup to Vergil.

"Ooooo... Black Sabbath. I didn't you had it in you to do it, Verg. I'm so proud."

That voice rang with that unmistakable air of arrogance.

"Dante?"

"In the flesh," he glanced downward for a second and continued, "Well... sorta."

"What are you – How –" Vergil couldn't coherently put together a sentence as he shakily grasped the mug.

"I would have thought you would know. It's a possession. You once did the same thing to a kid named Nero," he said plopping onto a plush brown corduroy-like couch.

"Or... don'tcha remember."

* * *

Holy exposition, Batman! Well... the info had to get out one way or another. 

Tidbit: The 9:30 Club is real nightclub/concert venue on V street in Washington, D.C. near where I live.

_Your reviews are sweeter than candy._


	4. Seth No Evil

_Yo no poseo DMC ni los caracteres. Por favor no se olvíde revisar. _

_I shoulda wrote this chapter in Spanish just to piss you off. ;-) Oh, well... Enjoy._

* * *

Chapter 4: Seth No Evil

Vergil was still trying to wrap his head around Dante's new form.

"So..." he began cautiously, "who –"

Dante knew what Vergil was getting at and decided to finish the question, "You mean whose body I am squatting in? I think his name is Seth. As for how I was drawn to him, I do not know. Maybe it is the fact that he is a musician like I once was."

Dante placed his hand on the coffee table. Vergil watched as a drumstick on the floor flew up onto the table and into Dante's hand on its own accord.

"Maybe it's because he's coming into his own power," Dante completed his own thoughts.

Vergil tried his best to hide his fraying façade from Dante. His brother had died weeks ago and suddenly he was back. What could he say to that; 'Hey bro... How's the afterlife?'

They had been far apart in more ways than one. However, in these last few years, they had grown closer than ever.

Vergil sensibly collected his thoughts. After all, he didn't want Dante to get the idea that he had been moping since that day. Then again, Dante had always been immune from Vergil frosty exterior.

"Ah, so many questions... Is _Seth_ a demon?"

"Wow... so direct. No, Seth is human. But, I think he's witch."

"You keep strange company," Vergil said glumly at the irony.

Dante smiled and said, "True. That's exactly why I needed your help."

"You lured me here because you needed my help?"

"Hey! I didn't _lure_ you here, I was only having fun. It's not my fault that your twin senses were tingling. At any rate, I need you to look into something for me."

"What is it?"

"I can't tell you much, but I am here to collect a soul and I don't want to lug around damaged goods."

Vergil raised an eyebrow, "A soul? Who's soul?"

"Can't say. It's my job to save as many souls as possible, but I am not allowed to do it directly."

"Your job?"

"Oh, right! I never did tell you," Dante laughed, "I am steward... a guide to the afterlife, if you will. Upon death, I pretty much capture their souls and send them on their way. I don't do last requests or regrets... Some other guy handles that stuff."

"Riiight. So, you are the grim reaper? How did you land such an occupation?" In the past, Vergil could only believe half of what Dante, the habitual liar, told him.

Dante was getting somewhat annoyed from Vergil's disbelief, but decided to answer his questions anyway. "Not _the_ grim reaper, _a_ grim reaper. I became a reaper because the Powers That Be didn't exactly know what to do about a devil in Heaven and I didn't do anything to warrant being sent to Hell. So, I guess this job serves as a probationary period. By the way, I met your reaper. Oh, the gray hairs you gave him. You are giving him hell."

Dante chuckled and continued choosing his words carefully, "About this soul... I _can_ tell you that you will come into contact with this person. You will have to make some tough decisions, but I'm confident that you do the right thing. If this is done correctly, then this soul may not meet a horrific end."

"So you want me to do the foot work for you?"

"Well...Yeah. It will do you some good too. Besides, I like pissing off your reaper."

They both smiled and chuckled for a while.

Dante let out a small yawn and lay on the couch.

"Looks like I'm outta time and I got a quota to fill. See you around, Verg. Do me a favor... When this kid wakes up, lie to him or something."

"But, Dan –" Vergil reached out to his brother.

It was too late, Dante had already slipped away and the boy lay sleeping.

Seth's sparkling green eyes blinked open. Vergil turned to see the now wide awake boy sit up. His eyes searched around the room with a clearly confused look on his face.

"How did I get here?"

Vergil adopted a surfer's accent and did his very best Dante impression, "Duuuude, that was an _awesome_ party. The girls... the booze. Too bad you passed out."

Seth digested Vergil's statement and tried to shake away the throbbing pain in his head.

The boy surveyed Vergil's snow-capped head and slowly said, "Hey! Aren't you –"

"No..." Vergil cut him off, "but I get that a lot."

The boy briefly looked away and back again. Seth parted his lips to say more but Vergil had already gone.

* * *

I know.. its extremely short. I guess my muse went on vacation and I guess that I couldn't stay serious for long.

Boy, do I suck at dialogue.

_Anyways, review?_


	5. Change

**A/N:**_ Hello again everyone! Sorry that has been a while, I've been working on some other fics, which I hope ya'll take a look at later. To make up for my lateness, I bring you two new chapters. _

_Thanks to all reviewers and those who liked the story enough to add it. Um… I don't own the DMC Series or their characters… Capcom does. Are we all happy now? Cool… As always, I am open to criticism, so please review! Enjoy! _

* * *

Chapter 5: Change

It had only been two days since Vergil had his brief encounter with Seth... Or Dante, however one would like to put it. He was getting used to the idea that he wouldn't see his little brother ever again and here Dante shows up out of the blue.

Vergil could have shared his experience with Trish or Lucia, but he didn't. He hadn't told anyone, not even Sister Aurora, who still shared leads on Malina's whereabouts.

And why not? It wasn't completely outside the realm of possibility. After all, they had been called out on jobs that required them to vanquish poltergeists and demons possessing children.

He honestly thought that it would only give Trish or Lucia one more reason to put him away, strait-jacket and all. He had heard them whispering about sending him to a therapist.

Still Vergil pushed on pretending that had never overheard them.

_They'll see that I am right and I will bring Dante's killer to justice._

But in those two days, Vergil was finally near being at ease. He may not have been aware of the difference, but he was far less edgy. He was dressing more like himself and even styled his hair in the usual spikes. He was even sleeping better.

One morning, Vergil graced the women with his presence at breakfast. Trish and Lucia were chatting over eggs, bacon, pancakes and coffee when Vergil casually walked down the stairs in a pair of blue jeans and a royal blue shirt layered above a white tee-shirt. He was wearing a nice pair of blue and white sneakers, which he didn't raid from Dante's closet, and his hair gelled up in his signature do.

He substituted his usual glare for a smile and a more cheerful, "Good morning."

The two were so shocked that they were only able to stammer out a, "G – g –good morning, Vergil."

He went to the kitchen and returned chewing on a slice of bacon. For the first time in weeks, he actually ate something. At this point, the two would have settled on him eating crumbs.

Vergil wasn't wasting away, his demon side made sure of it; but the question was geared more so to his human side. Could there side effects for hybrids that stop taking in nourishment?

Vergil became more productive and seemed more stable during missions. He had tossed aside the angry fighting style he adopted in the wake of Dante's death and reverted to his normal graceful, stylized sword movements.

For the first time in a while, Vergil wasn't obsessing over Malina. But he hadn't forgotten about her. He'd sometimes dream of what he would do to her once they crossed paths.

Finding Malina was an endeavor in and of itself. As she convalesced in her hideout, Vergil had to take into account whether or not she had any allies. If she was truly as close as Dante had said, she or someone else must be using very powerful majicks to veil themselves. What's worse is that Vergil couldn't sense it. Normally, a witch's spell would leave behind a residue or an echo.

Those can stay in an area ranging from days to years. An example being the Sisters of Light, who don't have to keep performing the same enchantments on their house because of an echo. The greater the power, longer the echo. Except that there wasn't any that could be detected.

Another problem that a confrontation with a witch posed was the fact that Malina could just as easily kill Vergil as she had done Dante.

Vergil couldn't debate it any longer, Malina had to be eliminated.

Vergil returned from a mission, showered and turned in for the night. He closed his wary eyes and dreamed a reverie that left him... changed.

----

His could hear the song of the morning birds ever so clearly. The smell of freshly cut grass and spring flowers in bloom traveled in and out of his nostrils.

Vergil felt the warmth of the sun against his skin. He opened his eyes despite the harsh light that was sure to rush into his pupils.

He looked about himself to see that he and half of his room had been transported to the center of a park. Vergil shot out of bed. He was no longer wearing the blue pajama bottoms he fell asleep with, but rather the sweater and slacks he attended the funeral in.

Soon, he realized that he and his room had gone unnoticed by the park patrons. The children laughed and played in their own world at the jungle gym. Old men sat on benches feeding birds. There were young men playing basketball on a nearby court. A group of joggers passed in front him on an asphalt trail, their earphones blasting various melodies.

It took a small child tugging on his pant leg to snap Vergil out of his trance.

"Hey, mister!"

Vergil looked down to see a small boy with pale blond hair and blue eyes. He was four maybe five and was beaming ear to ear, showing that he lost a few teeth. An image of a four year old Dante with that same wide smile flashed to mind.

"Hey, mister," the boy continued, "your name's Vergil, right? That guy over there gave me five bucks to tell you that you're late." The boy pointed to man dressed in a business suit and fedora sitting in front of a stone chess table. He showcased his reward at the same time.

"Late?"

"Yeah. He said that you have an appointment and that keeping him waiting is _very_ unprofessional."

Before Vergil could respond, he heard a distant call, "Tony!"

_Tony? Could this child actually be...?_

His thought trailed off when he saw a woman run up to him. She was wearing a short lavender dress. She had flowing gold-spun hair.

"Tony, there you! Daddy's lighting the candles. You'd better get back before your brother blows them all out." Tony gasped, spun on his heels and took off, all the while shouting, "Gilver, wait for me!"

"Thank you for stopping my son for me. So much energy. Given the chance, I think he'd keep running clear across the country." Her hand brushed her hair out of her face to reveal a very familiar one. That angelic face that had smiled at him for the first eight years of his life; those baby blue eyes...

"Yeah, lightning in a bottle," Vergil finally said, "My brother was the same way at that age."

The woman smiled and said, "Have we met before? I feel like I know you from somewhere." Vergil shook his head, no despite knowing otherwise.

"Maybe in another life," Vergil answered.

"My name is Eve," she reached out to shake Vergil's hand. He took it. "My husband and I are throwing a party for our sons. You are welcome to join us."

"No thank you, I really have to get going."

"Aww. Sorry to hear that. Anyways, it was a pleasure meeting you...," she dragged out the "you," leaving room for him to mention his own name.

"Vergil."

"Vergil? That name sounds so familiar," she mused aloud and continued, "Well, it was great making your acquaintance, Vergil. You have a nice day." With that she returned from whence she came.

Vergil turned and made his way to the suited man. As he got closer, he noticed that the man was speaking into a Bluetooth headset and fiddling with a SideKick phone. "Yes... Yes... No, that's no good."

Vergil took the seat opposite the man in front a fully set chessboard.

"Okay... Thank you... Good bye." The man pulled the headset out of his ear and put it and his SideKick in his pocket.

"How have you been, V?" Vergil straightened at how he was addressed. The only people to call him "V" were his parents (on occasion), and mainly... _Dante._

He took off his hat and placed it on his knee. Dante's platinum locks were combed straight back, which reminded Vergil of Sparda and of Dante lying in that damned casket.

Dante looked at his senior and said, "Sooo... what's on your mind?"

* * *

_A little on the short side and a little slow by way action._ :(

_Reviews?_


	6. In Dreams

_This here is part two of my Christmas Day post. Enjoy… I don't own DMC or the Characters._

* * *

Chapter 6: In Dreams

Vergil was a little taken aback by nearly everything. The woman and boy were the least surprising. They looked similar but were of course different. He figured that they were a dream representation of his own childhood, a perversion of his reality. His dreams rarely ever made since.

He was mostly amazed at Dante's question. He didn't have to be a powerful demon or grim reaper to know when his brother had something on his mind. When they were younger, he always knew when Vergil just needed to talk.

Vergil tried to gather his words when he realized that couldn't look at Dante, at least not dressed like that.

"So, you don't like my work clothes," Dante said somehow _knowing_, "Fine. I'll change.

Vergil looked up to see that Dante was suddenly wearing black leather pants and boots with a red form fitting shirt. Even his hair had transformed into the same old shaggy do that Vergil was so used seeing Dante sporting.

"And you too," Dante said, "Please don't ever wear that mess ever again! Not even to a funeral! Its way too depressing and it is soooo not you." He knew that Dante was only poking fun, but immediately he asked himself,_ how does he know that I wore this to his funeral?_

In an instant, Vergil was wearing a similar outfit, only that his top was blue. "Everyone attends his funeral. Morbid, but true! Might I say...? I never did expect so many people. Even Enzo's fat ass showed. Nice pick on the casket, V. Loved the colors."

"Um... Thank you?" Of course Vergil would be slightly confused. It's not every day that someone is that thanked for the funeral arrangements by the _deceased_. Dante always did have a strange sense of humor.

"One more thing," Dante began again, leaning forward, "what was the point of me drafting a will if you were going to ignore it anyway?"

"Huh?"

"Remember, Ivory? You buried me with Ivory. I said you could have it... along with a whole lot of other things... Well, I guess you did pay attention to the other stuff," Dante's voice softened a little when he said the latter.

Vergil knew that Dante was referring to the various area orphanages and group homes that received _very_ generous donations via Dante's life insurance policy. Of course, Vergil, Trish and Lucia were not left out. They were left with enough to retire on. Who knew that Dante could be responsible and plan ahead?

"The Devil Arms are still there, if that's what you mean."

"Hmm... How's everyone?"

"Trish and Lucia miss you too, but they think I'm a basket case." Dante chuckled at that and Vergil continued, "Neven cries every time I come near her, Rebellion, Beowulf, Infrit and Force Edge are fine, Cerberus throws ice at me, Alastor tired to impale me on more than one occasion, Agni and Rudra... just... keep... talking!" Somehow, Vergil was able to say it all with a straight face.

Dante let out a loud, raucous laugh. It had been a long time since Vergil seen or heard Dante laugh this way. It felt good to hear it. Dante's laugh died out with tears in his eyes.

"They're your problem now! It sounds like our dysfunctional family is back in full effect."

Vergil didn't join in on the laugh but did allow a small smile to creep across his face. He turned his attention to the chess pieces before him. He saw the small collection of alabaster before him and obsidian in front of Dante.

"Please, take the first move, Dante." Dante obliged, moving a center pawn two spaces forward.

"Dante," Vergil began, forcing his brother's pawn into a stalemate, "I have been meaning to ask you something."

"What?"

Vergil couldn't find the words. Again, he was lost in thought. _What can I say to him? Were you scared? Did you see Mother or Lady? Do you miss us? What do I say?_

"There's no point in thinking about. I can see what you want to say in your eyes," Dante moved the knight on his left and began answering the questions Vergil dared not to ask.

"Yeah, I was kinda scared at first. I think everyone is on some level... maybe there are exceptions, like those who battle long illness. I think they have more time to get prepared. Dad lived to be over two thousand, I wonder if he was at least half of how scared I was." Vergil mirrored Dante's move.

Dante moved another pawn and continued, "I saw Mom and Lady a couple of times, but you know... work." Dante still wasn't allowed to be with them yet. Vergil continued ahead with the knight.

"I do miss you all."

"Everyday," Dante finally finished after a beat, without his eyes meet his brother's. That one word summed it all up. In effect, Dante was "living" in the world, but not of it.

Dante made another move.

"Do you ever watch," Dante asked Vergil introspectively.

"Watch what?"

"You know… people watch."

Vergil gave Dante a look. Most of all, he meant to use it to make Dante feel foolish for asking such a question. Inwardly, he was interested in what his brother had to say.

Dante brushed off the glare and continued. "Just watch everything around you, take in the people who share your space." He motioned his head to the children playing on a swing set and parents that pushed them higher.

"When you pay attention to their actions, even their clothes, you understand who they are, where they're going, and where they have been. Humans lead far more interesting lives than you or I have previously thought."

Dante calmly pushed his freed rook forward.

Vergil didn't think that Dante was much of a philosopher, but now he was thoroughly impressed. What Dante had said, sparked something in Vergil's mind.

His younger brother had been happy only having the simplest things in life: friends and family. Dante sorely missed that now. He had found an indirect way to tell Vergil to appreciate the people around him, for they could be gone in the blink of an eye.

Any "immortal" devil would know having human relationships would be like playing roulette with the heart. They would know that they would outlive their loved ones.

For as long as Vergil known Dante, he had seen Dante as one who would constantly seek attention. In truth Dante, had just Vergil in on a secret; besides Lady, Vergil was in fact the only other person he had in the world. Being the center or attention was a means to keep the loneliness at bay. He was lonely when Vergil had disappeared and now Vergil understood how it felt now.

More pieces were moved and detained and two were quiet for a while.

"Huh. Will you look at that; something I couldn't do when I was alive," Dante said.

Vergil regarded the chessboard intently. "What do you know? I do believe that you have me in three moves, little brother," Vergil smiled, moving his king out of check.

"Yeah, but how 'bout now," Dante chided smugly as he slid his bishop diagonally across the board. "Check…"

"…Mate," Vergil said turning his king on its side. "Great game."

He didn't see the same cockiness in Dante's face, only slight disappointment. He probably sensed that Vergil's mind was elsewhere and wasn't playing his best.

"Dante."

"Yeah?"

"I want to know… what happened between you and –"

"Nothing," Dante cut Vergil off with a half-hearted smile. Vergil raised a silver eyebrow and Dante decided to level with him.

"I can't tell you that... What happened will always stay between her and me. She will eventually have to atone for it," Dante said casually, shrugging off the incident.

"How can you be so blasé about it? She stabbed you and left you to bleed to death! What happened?!"

Dante wasn't angry about Malina. And why should he be? There was no need for the dead to hold grudges.

Still... Dante sucked in air between his teeth, probably thinking of how to share this information with a living being.

"I want to know, Dante!"

He raised a brow and coolly said, "Are you sure you want to know? You may not like what you see."

"What I _see_," Vergil echoed.

"Yes, I will share my _entire _experience with you. You will know everything about that day. You will know what I saw, thought, felt... _everything_. So... I'll say again: Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

Vergil had to get to the bottom of this. He felt as if he was solving a puzzle – all the pieces were laid out but, none fit. This could put everything together.

"Yes," he finally answered, looking Dante in the eyes.

"Fine. But remember, you won't be able to change anything or do anything different. You are merely taking on a passive role."

Dante held out his left hand. Vergil followed suite. A blade with a white hilt materialized in Dante's right hand. He sent through the back of Vergil's hand and straight into his own. Blood flowed freely onto the other's hand and onto the fallen king.

A red aura surrounded Dante's hand and blue for Vergil. Soon their hands were enclosed in a steady, swirling stream of purple.

They were suddenly standing in well kept fields of green. There were the occasional trees sprinkled about the fields with headstones dominating the landscape. From the shade of an oak tree, Vergil could see a suited Dante crouched near a granite headstone. His hands tenderly rested on it, carefully tracing the lettering.

"I thought you didn't like suits," Vergil looked at the man attached to his hand.

"No, but Lady said that I looked cool in it... like I was in the Mafia or something."

Dante looked over at Vergil and said, "No turning back now. You have ten hours here. Just remember... this isn't you." He pulled the knife out and disappeared on the wind.

Vergil blinked. When he opened his eyes once again, he was wearing the suit and staring face to face with Lady's gravestone.

* * *

_Don't go anywhere there's more to come, plus I am in need of your sweet, sweet reviews._

_I thought it was cute that Dante would do anything for Lady, even wear stuffy suits._

_Oh! And I know that the whole "thank you for the funeral" thing is weird, but I figured that given the chance your loved ones would actually thank you for it. Also, I always wanted to be placed in my casket – buttocks up with the words "kiss my a" written across my cheeks. But I am just strange like that. _


	7. Enigma

**A/N:** _Thank you reviewers and people who added the story. So finally an update… this took me a lot longer than I expect. So since I'm nice, Two chapters for the price of one! Some warnings:_

_If you drink non-alcoholic beer, I am not making fun of you._

_In my imagination, a singing Dante is a SEXY Dante. The song Enigma is by Trapt and it's on their self-titled album. It is a cool, albeit sad song… you should listen to it… for some reason it resonated in my head while I was writing… so here's your chapter._

_Hurwitz IS the real-life owner of 9:30 Club in DC and that's a cool place to be._

_I don't own DMC or their characters… so enjoy and review! _

* * *

Chapter 7: Enigma 

The sun hung low in the sky, projecting hues of cherry and mauve across the clouds.

Vergil felt every curve of the letters. Fingers gingerly tracing her name, Lady Redgrave, tracing dates she lived and the small epitaph, loving wife, best friend and savior.

Vergil or rather, Dante stood and wiped away an errant tear. "You know how to make a devil cry, don't ya babe."

He could see, think, feel and hear, but the words and actions were all Dante's.

He touched the top of headstone and laid some red roses there. He went to another grave about four or five feet away. He laid white roses on top and said, "I haven't forgotten about you, Mom. I miss you too."

He kissed the headstone and walked back to his Candy Apple red, vintage Mustang.

He first took his suit jacket off and tossed it to the back, then rolled up his shirt sleeves and loosened his tie. The vintage muscle car purred to life and Dante drove off with the top down; the breeze gently playing at his platinum locks.

Within thirty minutes, he was outside the suburban hills that housed that cemetery and back into the city. He pulled in front of Devil May Cry and stepped out the car.

Trish had been watching him from the shop window. Dante exited the car without his usual pep. He wasn't quite dragging himself either; he just climbed out like a regular person.

Dante picked up his jacket and made his way into his shop. He met Trish at the door. He briefly hugged her and said, "Hey, babe."

Dante walked over to his desk and flipped through some mail. All the while Trish wondered whether or not it was okay to engage him in conversation. He wasn't his old, cheerful self, but he didn't seem angry either.

His mood was rather light considering what day it was.

Three years ago today, his wife, Lady died after a long battle with cancer. Dante was helpless. There was no way to save her.

It started with a miscarriage. He and she didn't talk about and Trish was the only other person that knew. It was a horrible situation that guaranteed that if made well again, Lady would be left barren. A tragic secret kept between the three.

She would not allow Dante to perform any of the "wellness" spells that Aurora taught him nor use any demonic orbs. When he asked why, she only said, "Because it's my time to go."

"Trish... Trish," Dante's voice brought her from her reverie.

"Yes."

"Where's Lucia and Vergil?" Dante rarely ever used Vergil's full name, he normally settled on pet names like "V" or "Verg." This worried Trish.

"They went to clear out a nest of Blades. They should be back soon."

"Hmm," he said shuffling through the mail once again, "Enzo's back in town... I'm gonna drop in on him a little later. You wanna come?" He tossed a letter to Trish. It landed perfectly at its destination, Trish's hands, like a playing card flicked from Gambit's fingers.

"No thanks. Lucia and I are going shopping later. Maybe Vergil –"

"Nah... He hates bars and he doesn't like crowds."

It was true, Vergil disliked bars. They had that sickening mixed smell of vomit and urine and an odd feeling of infestation. If needed, he'd rather do his drinking at a quiet five-star restaurant or at home. Sure bars offered camaraderie, but they were much too loud for his tastes.

The last time he went to a bar, Dante made sure to get him drunk and Vergil made a complete fool of himself. Vergil didn't remember much the day after. He woke up with many names and phone numbers scrawled on his arms.

To Dante, getting Vergil back was the greatest thing since the day he married Lady.

Four years ago Dante found Vergil meandering around the city in a catatonic state much like person caught in the middle of a war zone. Vergil didn't remember who he was nor did he remember Dante. He also looked as if he hadn't eaten or slept in weeks. It took months of patience, on everyone's parts, but Vergil was restored to his former glory, minus the evil bloodlust.

Dante shook himself from his thoughts and trekked up the stairs into his room. He walked over his dresser and picked up a photo that was neatly tucked in the mirror centered just above it.

He took his time looking at it, memorizing every feature. One hand unconsciously slid across the dresser onto a sheathed hunting knife.

Dante was so engrossed by the old photo of Lady that he hardly noticed that he was holding the knife until the blade reached inside his forearm.

Once he realized what he was doing, yanked the knife out and slammed it on to the dresser.

Dante watched as his skin knit together with minimal blood loss. He let out a small sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb.

Dante slid the knife back into its sheath and let out a wry chuckle. "And I promised her I'd never do that again."

He sat on the edge of his bed as Lady's voice teased his ears.

"_What's the point, Dante? Really? I mean... you're practically invincible... so why cut yourself?" Lady bent down removed the knife from Dante's grasp. He didn't know what to protest first; the fact that Lady was in his business or that she invaded the privacy of his own room to find him in the midst of his own depression. _

_Lady laughed a little. His anger or more really his angst, melted away. Funny, how her laugh could put him at ease. She ruffled his hair and said in a light hearted tone, "Com'on Dante. Emo is not a good look for you. Promise me you won't try to hurt yourself again."_

"Thanks for saving me from myself," Dante said aloud as Lady's voice faded away.

Vergil had no idea that Dante had ever gotten so depressed to _that_ point... He always seemed so happy, no matter what.

Dante sighed again and drew himself up. He grabbed his suit jacket and head out of the door and into his car. He glanced at his watch and realized that it was rather late in the evening.

Well, it wasn't really late by his standards, but he wanted to meet Enzo before the first act went onstage at the 9:30 Club. The doors opened at around seven-thirty and the first act began about an hour later.

It was a little before eight, so he had time. Once again he was off.

Dante, in his shiny red car, traversed the city streets at unheard of speeds, always careful to keep an eye out for the cops and speed traps.

Within short moments, he rounded he corner of 9th Street and onto V Street. He found a parking space across the street from the front door. He pulled in and turned it off. He stepped out and made his way to the club.

Dante met no opposition from the bouncer at the door, who instead asked for an autograph. The bulky young man produced a piece of paper, which Dante obliged the man by signing.

He entered the club and was met by more fans. He indulged them by signing more autographs and posing for photographs. Satisfied with meeting a rather personable, semi-famous rock star, they went back to their previous activities and he sauntered to the bar.

Dante pulled up a stool next to man huddled over a bottle of beer.

"What can I get for you," asked the bartender.

"Yeah… uh, Three Wise Men and… a strawberry sundae," Dante answered.

"Dante," the man lifted his head and turned toward the voice that asked for ice cream. There was only man that he knew of that had the audacity to do that in a bar.

"Dante… it's really you," he repeated in happiness. "How did you –?"

"You really thought that you could slide into town and I wouldn't notice, Enzo," Dante said regarding the stocky Italian.

The bartender sat the drink and sundae in front of Dante. "Thanks," he said before turning back to Enzo, "Long time, no see. Where have you been hiding yourself?"

Dante took in a spoon full of his dessert. "Nowhere in particular. God… You haven't aged a day." Enzo was almost mesmerized.

"I got married five years ago," Enzo said fishing a picture from his wallet and passing it to Dante, "Her name's Natasha." Dante looked at angelic brunette the photo. 'Mail order bride' readily came to mind, but at least Enzo was happy.

"Let me guess… she's Russian," Dante said as he polished off the ice cream.

"No, but close… She is from Belarus."

"She's pretty," Dante said, sipping his drink. Dante was never a man of few words and he wasn't exactly a chatty Cathy either, but there was something about this conversation that made Enzo uncomfortable. There was none of the cocky undertones or the endearing sarcasms that Dante normally spoke with and he wasn't wearing his normal flamboyant red leather. Perhaps, he had actually grown up over the years or maybe there was something else bothering him. Enzo couldn't decide what it was.

"So, what have you been doing all these years," Enzo asked.

"Took on some extra partners," Dante said with a shrug and a sip.

"I heard you got married too… What was her name? Um… Lady is it? How is she?"

"She passed away… Three years ago today," he answered while gazing into his drink. The ice clank against the glass and the russet liquid swirled, catching the light and Dante's reflection.

"Oh God… Dante, man, I'm so sorry."

"Its okay. I miss her, but I made my peace with it along time ago."

"So what's in a Three Wise Men," Enzo quickly changed the subject.

"The three wisest men I know. There's José Cuervo, Jack Daniels, and Johnny Walker red. What do you have over there," Dante smiled while inspecting the green glass bottle before Enzo. He turned the label out towards Dante.

"O'Doul's? What the hell?! What happened to you, Enzo? I don't even know you anymore." He said the latter jokingly in a low voice while narrowing his glacial eyes at the man.

"Well," the Italian began rather nervously, "Natasha wants a baby, so that means no alcohol for a while. This was the closest I could get." Enzo held the bottle up rather pitifully.

"Pfft. Non-alcoholic beer, what's the point," Dante scoffed, sipping at the remnants of his drink.

Dante turned and looked at the stage. The crowds had grown and there was no sign of the first act. They were angrily shouting for entertainment. He glanced at his watch. It was nine o'clock.

There stage hands and managers with headsets and clipboards frantically running between the front of the house and backstage.

"Good evening, Mr. Redgrave," Dante heard a voice behind him say.

Dante tilted his head back to catch an upside down view of a well-dressed man. "Hello, Mr. Hurwitz. What's going on? You only call me that if you really need something."

"Well, Dante, its not looking so great. The lead singer from our first act has food poisoning and the replacements got into an argument and they apparently broke up."

"Looks like you guys are shit out of luck."

"Com'on, Dante… Think of it as a treat for the fans. It's just a warm-up. It will only be until the second act arrives which will be about ten minutes. Besides I got a few guys to back you up and they're really good."

Dante stared at the man with a straight face. "PLEASE," he begged. A smile crept across Dante face. He let out a boisterous laugh that startled Enzo.

"I didn't how long I could last," Dante said with some of his old personality peeking through, "Okay, I'll do it. Just hand me a guitar and I'm yours."

He turned to the bartender and handed him a fifty and said "Keep the change." He managed to stammer out a, "T-t-thanks."

Dante turned to Enzo and said, "Stick around; I have to talk to you later."

Enzo was very intrigued and his eyes followed Dante as he was escorted to the stage. He watched Dante step onstage and speak briefly to the makeshift band as he strapped on a guitar. Within seconds, the strings were tightened and loosened to his own specifications and he was ready to rock.

Despite the suit, Dante looked very rock star-ish.

Enzo sat back, sipped on his near-beer and watched the show.

A disembodied voice boomed through the speakers, "Please give a warm welcome to En Fuego's AND 9:30's very own, Dante!"

Dante stepped up to the microphone and was greeted by wild cheers. He said, "This one goes out to my baby and it's called Enigma."

The house light dimmed as he and the band began. The drummer began the song as Dante and the bassist joined in. The song started with a low, mellow beat.

Dante strummed his guitar and sang the opening lines matching the beat and tempo.

'_Do we know how to get the message across_

_We turn the lights off to find a way out  
No time to get through to grasp what was lost  
Don't turn the light off and leave me in the dark'_

The guitar switched into a more driving rhythm by the beginning of the chorus. Again Dante's vocals harmonized.

'_Hey, I'm pleading, my soul is bleeding  
I don't want to be left alone, not when I'm right next to you  
What are you thinking, it's so misleading  
Is it not for me to know, I think it's just hard for you to show'_

Every thing toned down again.

'_We never spoke in the words that we want  
We turn the lights off to find a way out  
We've never chosen to keep what we've got  
Don't turn the light off and leave me in the dark'_

Hard guitar sounds joined in again and it seemed that Dante was dance around the stage and engaged the audience.

'_Hey, I'm pleading, my soul is bleeding  
I don't want to be left alone, not when I'm right next to you  
What are you thinking, it's so misleading  
Is it not for me to know, I think it's just hard for you to SHOW_

_Hard for you to show_

_It's so hard for you to show_

_Why is it hard for you to SHOW_

_Hard for you to show'_

Dante held nearly every other note for "show" almost like a melodic howl. The instruments toned again for the short part of the bridge. Again, he howled out, this time for "asleep."

'_I thought it would be nice to lie down and close my eyes  
It never occurred to me that I am already ASLEEP'_

The music built and leveled out as Dante again held "asleep." The rest of the band added backup vocals as Dante held certain notes.

'_Don't be the one to _

_Don't be the one to ASLEEP let go  
Don't be the one to_

_Don't be the one to ASLEEP be alone_

_Don't be the one to_

_Don't be the one to let go_

_All ALONE tonight'_

After small instrumental, the vocals came in for the final lines of the song. As the music reverberated through the venue, Vergil and Enzo could see, despite his calm, happy-go-lucky façade, Dante's soul was actually… crying.

'_Hey, I'm pleading, my soul is bleeding  
I don't want to be left alone, not when I'm right next to you  
What are you thinking, it's so misleading_

_I don't want to be left alone_

_I don't want to be left ALONE_

_I don't want to be left ALONE_

_I don't want to be left alone_

_I don't want to be left alone_

_No one wants to be left alone' _

With that Dante broke off eye contact with audience and hung his head, allowing his hair to drift into his face. The last guitar note was sustained as the drummer played his last few beats before ending the song.

The crowd cheered, roared, and chanted, "Dante! Dante! Dante!" It was as if they forgot there were other artists to follow. "Thank-you," Dante said into the microphone, "Please welcome Relic to the stage."

Dante and his on-the-spot band were replaced by the newcomers. Dante snaked his way back to Enzo at the bar. "Wow! I had no idea that you sang, Dante."

Dante brushed a hand through his platinum hair, "Yeah… well, Lady got me into it a long time ago." He glanced at his watch. "I gotta get going. Come by Devil May Cry later on tonight. You remember how to get there, right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. See ya later, Enzo," Dante flashed a smile and headed for the door, leaving Enzo with the last bits of his small beer.

Dante once again hopped into his vintage Mustang and drove back to his home-office. It was a short trip and he was back in his room in no time.

He plopped down onto his unmade bed and closed his eyes.

A strange aura billowed into the room, causing Dante's hazel-blues to shoot open with a start. "Malina." He said her name aloud, as he stood from his bed.

"That's right demon, it's me."

* * *

_Stick around… here's Chapter 8._

_REVIEW! please..._


	8. Zero Hour

_Okay… chapter 8_.

* * *

Chapter 8: Zero Hour 

She quickly made her way to the dresser, unsheathed the hunting knife and threw it at Dante with one fluid motion. He caught it in midair just inches from his jugular. Malina readied herself in case he decided to throw it back.

He didn't. Dante instead tossed it on the bed. "I don't want to fight you, Malina. Go home," he said calmly. Dante sighed, as if to reinforce the fact that they have been down this road before. He turned to walk to the door.

"Don't you walk away from me," she screamed. Dante stopped in his stride, not to obey her, but rather he was compelled to do so. He felt so queasy and tired. He had rarely ever felt so sick and worn out.

Dante tried to make an honest effort to fight the sensation. He slid down the foot of his bed and on to the floor. He fought back the bile rising in his throat.

"A binding spell," Dante said looking at the glowing chalk glyphs surrounding him, "I'm impressed. Then again, you're not alone. Are you?"

"I knew you'd figure it out eventually," said a familiar female voice from the corner, far out of range from the spell.

"Arinna… I knew there something odd about you. Hiding among wiccians, now that's a gutsy move."

The veiled woman moved into Dante's view. "So, how long have you possessed this girl?"

"Oh, Son of Sparda," Arinna began, her voice slightly more distorted, "You and I both know that possession and influence are two completely different things. Influence is almost always welcomed."

Malina harshly straightened Dante's face, to make sure he was looking at her. She gently caressed his face and hair. "You truly are beautiful," she said. Dante tried to jerk his head away and found that he could not move.

"Go figure. A devil with the face of an angel," Malina continued, "My sister always said that the worst demon was one with the guise of man."

Dante laughed at the irony. She pulled out Arinna's athame. Arinna nodded at the girl as if to say, _you know what to do._

"What's so funny," Malina yelled, cutting into Dante's arm. It did hurt, but not like a simple cut, more like a burning sensation.

He continued laughing in spite of the pain. "What are you laughing at," she demanded again, digging deeper into Dante's arm.

Dante's laugh faded as he said, "Arinna told you all that, did she? Why don't you ask her, 'what does that make her'?"

"Shut up," Malina half shouted.

"Ask her. What does that make her?"

"Shut up!"

"Do you want to know?"

"Shut up," she screamed thrusting the blade into Dante's chest. She could feel it as it tore into flesh and organs and scraped past bone.

Malina's fit of rage ended as she heard him cry out in pain. "Oh God," she said with remorse painted on her faced. For a moment she took her hand off the hilt and placed it back on deciding that she had to remove it.

"I'm so sorry," she tried to reconcile. She wrapped her hand around the hilt and pulled to no avail. It was stuck.

Her efforts were only met by a weak groan from Dante, who sat there limp, like a marionette that has had its strings cut.

Malina gently pulled his head back so that she could see his face clearly. The snowy tuft drifted out of his face.

Her brown eyes met with his blue gaze. "What is she," she whispered in defeat. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he curled his lips into that silly grin that she fell in love with.

"She is…" Regaining some movement in his arms, Dante grasped the athame, only to have it sizzle in his right hand. He ignored his burning hand and managed to pull it out with a pained grunt.

As his hand dropped to the floor, Dante doubled over with wet coughs and short gasps. Malina saw the blood flow freely from the chest wound and stain his once pristine shirt.

"Foolish half-breed," Arinna hissed, "You hasten your death."

Dante managed pick his head up and glower at the veiled feminine form.

Crimson gathered behind his teeth as he spoke, telling of the blood that had already invaded his lungs, "She's far worse than me, yet not nearly as powerful." Dying and still he was goading the woman on.

"Ever wonder why you can't see her face or why she only receives power when you mention her coven name? Names have power, kid. Remember that." Dante coughed again and spat out the blood that burbled in his mouth.

Arinna moved in to slap him, but backed off at the last second. "You can't do it, can you, sweetheart," Dante gasped out, "You can't cross the spell."

He watched as Arinna's hold over Malina weakened. Dante let out a small laugh.

Malina grasped Dante's left hand and tucked something in it and said, "It had to be done." She tried to smile and put the dying man before her at ease, although he didn't need it. Neither of them noticed the faint green glow that surrounded their joined hands.

And the two young women were gone. He opened his hand to see Lady warmly smiling at him. He accepted the darkness that quickly encroached upon his vision, with a smile.

He opened his eyes again when heard Vergil scream for Lucia and Trish. Dante realized that he was lying in a pool of his own blood and he couldn't hang on for much longer. He looked up to see Vergil who was struggling to hide the fear in his eyes.

That, in conjunction with exhaustion, made Dante want to close his eyes. "Stay with me," Vergil's stressed voice woke him again.

"Verg…" Dante began, but the rest of his words were choked down with heavy coughs. _Com'on Verg, _he thought,_ its okay._ "Conserve your strength." Vergil's words cut into his thoughts.

_Dante…_ A voice whispered in his head. _Dante… 'Who are you,' _he mentally asked the voice, '_Where are you?_'

_We are here._

Dante looked up to see Eva's smiling face.

'_Mom?'_

_Yes, Sweetie, it's me. _She reached down and held Dante's hand. He inhaled… and exhaled his final breath.

Vergil opened his eyes and found that he was standing near the window and fire escape, watching himself desperately trying to bring back Dante.

"So… did you see what you needed to see?" He turned to see Dante standing beside him.

Vergil nodded. "Good," Dante said, "You need to run now."

"What?"

"Wake up," Dante whispered.

---

Vergil shot out of bed, still dressed in his black wife-beater top and blue pajama bottoms. "What a strange dream," he said aloud. His head cleared once he heard the sirens outside his window. Vergil then heard a rather disturbing conversation outside his door.

"Stop stalling ma'am, where can we find Vergil? He is wanted on the suspicion for the murder of Aurora Moore."

"How do you know it was him?"

"The lady was found hacked to bits and he's the only one that has been brandishing a sword lately."

Vergil wasted no time in grabbing Yamato, climbing out of his window and scaling the storm pipe to the roof.

He made it to his destination. He hopped up onto the ledge to face the cops dashing up the ladder. Vergil unsheathed his O-katana, stood elegantly with his blade hovering just above the ground and beckoned the men forward.

They rushed toward Vergil, hoping to overpower the white-haired man. He only swatted the advancing ranks aside with the flat edge of his sword.

Vergil walked with a cat's grace on the building's ledge until he reached the side that faced the alley. He flashed a signature Dante grin, sheathed Yamato, and jumped back from the ledge, landing perfectly on the pavement below.

Vergil ran, ducking in and out of alleys, making sure that the police didn't see him as they patrolled for the fugitive. Usually, Vergil could find away to blend into crowds, but in his haste to run, he forgot a hat or quick dyeing kit to hide the hair that is sure to give him away.

Vergil pressed himself against a brick wall as a police cruiser passed by an alley opening. When he was sure they were gone, Vergil double backed and rounded another corner.

Vergil snaked through another alley and came to a warehouse. The steel industrial doors were chained together, but there was a gap. As he approached the doors, he felt every fiber of his being screaming to him, telling him to stay away. Even the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Still, he was compelled to move forward.

He ignored the painful stinging caused by the buried talismans and charms and slipped in between the gap.

Once inside, the veiled Arinna, appeared in front of Vergil with a katana similar to Yamato, caked with blood.

"Took you long enough."

* * *

_I don't like it much… its short and it feels rushed… but then again it's either a short chapter 8 or a super long chapter 7 that would be sure to lose your interest._

_Oh, well… Review please. _


	9. Just Cause

_Thank you all who have reviewed and added this little story. We are nearing the end and there a surprise in it for you! Sit back and enjoy and I'll be back soon. Lastly, I proofread, but still things creep up… let me know if you see any mistakes. Don't forget to review!_

* * *

Chapter 9: Just Cause 

"Just took a few detours," Vergil smirked, "You didn't make things any easier."

He drew his hell-forged blade in a very deliberate manner. The shiny surface reflected images of Arinna and a disheveled Malina. The young witch appeared as though she hadn't slept in weeks. She sat huddled over, Indian styled, and slowly rocking back and forth.

Malina was in her own world. Dull eyes stared off into space and lips muttered chains of incomprehensible words. He couldn't stand to look at her. His icy eyes painfully tore away from Malina and returned to Arinna.

_Why? _He wanted to say it, but couldn't form the words. This is where it all came to a head. Dante had died, Malina managed to take on some of his powers and now she remained insane. Now, her life was probably in danger as well.

"I am surprised that you do not remember me, young Sparda," Arinna mused, "Maybe if I referred to you a Nelo... Would that help?"

He teleported just in front of her and pointed the blade to her throat. "Say what you will," he said through clenched teeth, "you'll sooner be dead."

"Do you not remember," she asked again, "Possibly... a familiar..." She paused as she pulled away her veil. "Face."

He was taken aback by what he saw, but Vergil dared no to show it. He knew that face and knew it well.

It was that woman who "cared" for him in Mundus' prison. Or perhaps it was _her_ influence that kept him by Mundus' side in the Underworld.

He remembered that she remained on Mallet Island, watching... waiting, with that long ebony mane that shimmered in the sun. Maybe it was that radiance… that beauty that kept him bound to her in the Demon World; a companion in a very one-sided relationship.

The raven-haired demon had smooth, milky skin with impossibly mismatched irises of crimson and cobalt. Her ruby lips would lure any man into a venomous kiss.

Yes, she bore a striking resemblance to Lady... there was no doubt about it. She even carried that unmistakable scar across the bridged of her nose.

Not, quite Lady, but Lilith in all her sexual splendor… She was the first, the queen-mother of all succubae and incubi. He knew the name, but didn't risk speaking its power into existence.

Vergil pressed his sword even harder on her neck. "If that is the form you wish to take on," he pretended to be unfazed by her appearance, "then so be it."

"Do you not like it? You did become close to that _human_ in Temen-ni-gru. You would have been an excellent demon lord, had she not tainted you back then. I tried to remedy this." She bowed her head almost in shame.

He felt sorrow… for the crazed girl in the corner… and conflict in cutting down the Lady-masked demon. He honestly couldn't forgive himself if he should slay Dante's wife.

No. It wasn't her… so why was he still clashing with himself? Maybe, things would be different if he was still that young man, with delusions of power and righteous honor, who did what he needed to get the job done.

She brought up her blood-caked katana and swatted Vergil's blade aside. He didn't fight her objection. Vergil allowed his limp sword hand to swing back to his side.

"Age has definitely not hindered your fight," she taunted, moving into a battle stance. Vergil released a small sigh and followed suit, only that he didn't step into a particular posture. He stood there, rather capriciously, but ready nonetheless.

_Give it no more thought. End it quickly_, he told himself.

Vergil combed a hand through his hair. There was no gel, hence no spikes, but at least it was pushed back and there were no super-long bangs in his face. As he did this, he paced backwards and then lunged forward with a series of rapid slashes.

Lilith parried the slashes with equaled skill, swords sparking with every clank. "Come now, you think you, a half-demon, can defeat me," she goaded.

Vergil only intensified his assault, which finally threw the demon off balance. This was his chance.

He brought Yamato down and back, near his left hand that held the sheath.

Vergil dug his right forward and performed his signature move, the Judgment Cut. There was something different about it. It was far more powerful than ever before, shearing away pieces of the industrial shelves, walls, and overhead beams.

Subconsciously, he strengthened his resolve, reminding himself why he was here. No matter what it would take, Lilith would be sent back to hell today. She _will_ die today.  
His graceful, yet devastating strokes pushed the demon into the far wall behind her, hard enough to send small shockwaves through the warehouse.

Lilith was down and had yet to recover. Vergil saw this as his chance to gather up Malina. The building could be brought down at any second and he didn't want her to see what he was going to do to the succubus queen.

He sheathed his sword.

"Come on. It's time to go," Vergil softly coaxed the girl from her spot out of the door. More incoherent mumblings spilled from mouth; something along the lines of 'a human can't have a devil's power'.

He ignored it, focusing on escorting her outside safely with tenderness of handling a baby. He encouraged her every step of the way.

They were about twenty feet away when the entire building collapsed upon itself. Vergil quickly looked around. With no sight of Lilith, he continued moving Malina into the alley. If he could get her out into open, maybe someone would see her, help her. It didn't matter if he was caught, she was his priority.

And what a sight… A white-haired, barefooted man dressed in pajama bottoms and a tank top walking alone with a dirty and confused teenaged girl. Now, that's something to talk about.

"A little farther," he said calmly.

Suddenly, he felt a hand clamp around his shoulder, near his neck. Before he could fight it off, he was yanked backwards down the alley. He was sent crashing into a dumpster. Yamato clattered to the ground nearly two yards away.

As soon as he made it to his feet, she was already behind him. Lilith secured her arms around Vergil, straightened his neck, bared her vampiric fangs, and… sank in her teeth.

Her teeth transmitted blood thinning and paralyzing agents into Vergil, making escape nearly impossible.

She suckled at his life giving blood, dripping some just past his neck. At first, Vergil could feel _her_ pleasure surging through him, translating into his own and then into pain. She was actually sapping away his strength.

All the while, he stretched his arm farther for his O-katana, with no luck. Soon, he could no longer stand under his own power. He was brought to his knees.

Even his vision blurred a little, but still… he reached.

She kneeled behind him still attached to his neck. Vergil was growing increasingly dizzy, breathing becoming a little stridorous. She loosed herself and said, "My, my Sparda. How sweet is your blood? I feel your heart slowing… it's only a matter of time before you pass out… and die too. And guess what, Vergil?"

He didn't answer.

"I'll kill her too," she said as she harshly pulled his head up to face the frightened girl.

"Please, help me Vergil," Malina managed to choke out into lucidity.

Lilith grit her teeth and spoke into Vergil's ear, "Do you like? Huh? Does it turn you on? I know it did at some point… I felt it. I have waited _years_ for this. Your father thought he could render powerless forever! HA! Now, I feel _his_ power coursing through my veins. Soon, I'll have hers and Dante's. Then I shall rule the Underworld."

"What shall we call you," Vergil asked, his voice barely a whisper. He reached again for the sword. Vergil could feel it trying to pull closer.

"I am the Queen… the first of my kind. I am L-l-l –" The last bit stayed on her tongue, unable to move away.

He let out a hoarse chuckle and whispered, "My father stripped you of your name. You don't have power and you'll never find it."

Malina head began to clear, her trance nearly broken.

The sword flung itself into Vergil's hands. In the fraction of a second, he unsheathed Yamato and ran himself through with it. The blade reached past his back and inside the demon woman as she let out a drawn out gasp. He pushed it in farther and twisted it.

He didn't care about the pain he felt… Vergil just wanted her to suffer. "This belongs… to a son of Sparda," Vergil wheezed with blood oozing from his mouth, "You shall never have it!" Vergil twisted his blade again, gaining new cries from the succubus.

"Oh no? Then I'll have hers," she said in a pained, but cold voice.

The demon displaced herself from Vergil's blade to just behind Malina.

_No._ He had her and she slipped through his fingers. Lilith stretched Malina's neck and widened her jaw. Vergil used the very last of his might to summon a phantom sword and launch it at the she-devil. It hurtled just past Malina, barely grazing her skin, and right into Lilith, knocking her Lady-like head clean off her shoulders.

Her face bore the look of utter surprise. No, possibly disgust... foiled again by a Sparda. Almost in slow motion, her severed head sailed past Malina and transformed into ash. The rest followed suit and drifted away on a gust of wind.

Seeing that, Vergil collapsed on the pavement with his vision tunneling. The last thing he saw was Malina running towards him.

"Vergil! Vergil," she called to the fallen form.

He didn't stir.

"Oh God, no! Not again! Not again," she said as she tried shaking him. "Please… I'm so sorry." Malina began crying.

She kneeled and pulled out Yamato, slowly and carefully. She was greeted with a flood of sanguine and the same sickening squish she heard when she stabbed Dante.

"Vergil, please don't die."

Malina turned him over to his back, took off her jacket and used it to apply pressure to his neck and torso. His lips and fingertips were already blue and his pale skin was cold and clammy. She realized that he had lost air and went into shock long ago, that his sheer will alone kept her alive.

She glanced at his seemingly sleeping face. Malina turned her head towards the alley opening and tearfully shouted, "Somebody, please help!"

---

Vergil found himself standing a few feet from his own body, still dressed in his sleeping wares. He looked up to see a few good Samaritans heed Malina's call. One pulled the sobbing Malina away from Vergil's lifeless body, serving as a distraction. The other two began checking for vitals.

"Dante was right," Vergil said to himself aloud, "this is rather disturbing to watch."

"Damn right it is." Vergil attention shifted from the men trying to revive his discarded shell, to the voice behind him.

"Dante?"

It was indeed his brother, dressed from head to toe in black with his arms crossed on his chest.

"Verg, what _are_ you doing?"

"I figured it out… You wanted Malina, but you needed her to clear her conscience first. To cleanse her soul… but she's just a child."

"It's not your decision, V."

"The hell it isn't! She's got her whole life ahead of her! Take me instead."

"Vergil," they heard Malina scream.

"She's a great a kid, Dante. Just think of all the evil she will purge."

Dante chuckled and said, "You still don't get it, do you? It's not your time yet nor hers either… True, I at first came to collect her soul, but you changed the timeline, saved her life. You got her to push through that spell and cleanse herself. Great job. And…" Dante handed Vergil his customized red Sidekick.

"As you can see, you are not on my list today and neither is she." Dante took it back and put it away, "Thanks big bro for making my job A LOT easier… but you gotta go back now, and it looks like they're about to give up."

"It's no good. I don't feel a pulse. This kid's long gone," one frustrated rescuer said, "where's that ambulance anyways?"

Malina heard their conversation and cried even more. The distraught girl broke free and ran to the platinum-haired devil's side.

"Please, don't leave… don't leave," she cried. She laid her head on his still chest.

"Okay, I'll go," Vergil finally said to Dante.

"Okay… I guess I'll see you soon enough. Close your eyes and take a deep breath."

Vergil obeyed. It was no time at all when Vergil began to feel the effects of his wounds and Malina's weight across his chest.

She began to hear slow, regular thumps. "Huh? Wha-? Guys… his heart's beating again," Malina exclaimed happily.

"Oh, sweetie," the rescuer that first distracted her began, "I'm so sorry, but your friend's gone. We just didn't get here in time."

After all, she must be delusional. There were no signs of life for over ten minutes.

The rescuers were forced to stifle their comforting condolences and stare in awe when Vergil drew in a breath and released wet, wheezing coughs. He opened his eyes briefly before losing consciousness again. Malina didn't care, he was alive.

_

* * *

_

**Eric:**_ How can you stand being impaled that often?_

**Dante:**_ Tons of practice... Kids, don't try that at home, we're professional video game characters._

Vergil nods in agreement

_Weird ending, I know… and I have yet to exhaust my "cheese" factor. S__tick around Chapter 10 is on its way._


	10. Push 'Til It Hurts

**A/N: **Thanks to all readers, suscribers and reviewers. Your encouragment means alot.

So another chapter in our saga... a product of many edits and deletions. Tell me what you think.

* * *

Chapter 10: Push 'Til It Hurts

Little time passed before the paramedics had arrived and collected the fair-haired devil onto a gurney and into the ambulance. Malina followed and resolved herself to stay by his side, no matter what. It was a short ride to the hospital, but in that span, she watched them dress what wounds they could, begin an IV drip, administer oxygen via a plastic mask, and attach electrodes to his now bare chest. She continued to watch even when she felt a little squeamish. Still, Malina held on to his limp hand.

Vergil was no longer bleeding profusely, but his near-fatal wound still hadn't yet begun to heal. They arrived at the emergency bay and Vergil was quickly taken inside. At the door she was greeted by a cop. He called himself Johnson. It almost seemed to her that she was ambushed and forced to leave her unlikely savior's side.

He escorted the disheveled girl to a small waiting room adjacent to the triage area. He brought her to a chair across from a table and another seat that he took as his own. There was a small box of doughnuts that centered the table. He motioned for her to help herself. At his signal, Malina began to wolf down the contents of the entire box. _How long had she gone without food? _Her cheeks were filled with the sweet stuff. She normally didn't eat doughnuts and she detested the cream filled ones; but as they say, hunger makes the best spice.

Johnson casually slid a soda across the grey plastic table. She immediately guzzled it. When he was sure that she was close to having her fill, Johnson spoke up, making sure not to use words that would rile her up. "So, Malina… is it? How have you been?" She ignored him, concentrating more on the food. Another well-dressed, detective quietly entered the room and sat in the far corner. He seemed much older than Johnson, but allowed the younger detective lead this investigation and remained silent. "You have been missing for quite sometime," Johnson continued, "where have you been?"

"Around," she said munching on a chocolate frosted donut, "hiding,"

"From whom?" he raised an auburn eyebrow.

She stopped eating as if she snapped to her senses. "How's Vergil… I-i-is he okay?"

"The doctors are with him. They'll let us know if something comes up," continued on to press her for information, "How do you know Vergil?"

"I didn't, at first. But he still saved me… from a fate worse than Hell itself."

_He saved me…_ it echoed in Johnson's head. _From what? _He could clearly remember what her "savior" looked like when he was wheeled into the hospital. He wore only the blue pajama pants and his torso was almost completely wrapped in white gauze, with crimson barely peeking through it. Some blood was speckled on his face and was also painted on the inside of his oxygen mask. He was impossibly pale, a far cry from the many photos he had seen. He honestly looked like he had died on arrival.

Johnson continued his questions, "What do you mean by that?"

"He sacrificed himself to take down a murderer," she bared all with the cryptic tone of a mental patient, "The one that killed Sister Aurora."

He leaned in to listen, "Yes?"

"She called herself queen once and then Arinna on this mortal plane."

Johnson was eager to hear more but just then received a page. It alerted him to the fact that Vergil maybe moved to surgery soon. He walked over to his partner and whispered to him. The short conversation ended with the other detective taking over the questioning. This was his cue to check on his suspect before he had the chance to die before questioning. He made his way down the hall to the trauma room. He was stopped by a female doctor before he could reach the threshold.

"Excuse me sir, this patient cannot have any visitors at this time."

"I'm Carl Johnson of the MPD," he paused as he flashed his ID, "and I just want to ask this guy some questions."

"He's far too sedated to answer any questions," the doctor said, trying to lead the officer back down the hall.

"Well... Maybe you can help me. Is there anything you can tell me about the injuries he has sustained?"

The doctor felt a little apprehensive about releasing any information to the detective and Johnson saw it. "Com'on… please. This could really help in a kidnapping and murder case... Just at least his current condition," Johnson said the latter with his best "convincing" smile. The doctor held off for a few more seconds, but gave in.

"First off, it's a miracle that this man has survived such massive blood loss. He has a near-fatal wound to the chest that seems to exit to the back."

"A through and through… a bullet," Johnson question as he jotted notes down on a black book he kept in his breast pocket.

"No… the wound was deep and the edges were clean, like a cut done with long, sharp instrument… I'm thinking that it was possibly run through... with a sword."

Johnson was a little taken aback that the doctor could make such an astute guess as to what the assault weapon could have been, but nonetheless, the doctor continued, "That's not the half it… the damnest thing is that although his status is critical, he seems to be healing on his own, rather rapidly. His early prognosis is good. Given a week he should be breathing better, if not on his own and possibly out of the door by then."

"Well, that's good."

"From what I understand, he came here with a girl. We need to do a physical exam on her and maybe a psych consult. I want to make sure she's okay and that we are not dealing with a Stockholm syndrome-type situation."

"Umm… sure. She is the waiting area with my partner."

"Thank you," the doctor said before walking towards the small lounge area the detective had mentioned. Johnson was left alone just before the threshold of the room that currently housed Vergil. _What are you hiding? What are your secrets? _His thoughts surfaced as he gazed into the dimly lit room. He quickly poured of his notes and thought back to the profiling he had done on Vergil and his younger brother. _What makes you different from any other case?_ More thoughts flashed across his mind. Vergil is a well-reserved man who was much stronger than what he seemed; an accomplished swordsman. _Who solves their problems with swords anymore?_ There was once a female detective that commented, "If the twins' family was borne of wealth, then Dante seems to be the rebel of it all and Vergil is like a chivalrous knight, fighting to uphold some kind of honor."

No one knew of their family. Any files that were kept on the twins, reported that they were orphaned at a rather young age. They had some small run-ins with the law, but nothing serious. As they got older, they were sent to live in separate group homes. They were once records of their late teenage years, but they were stricken and thrown out, thought to be the rantings of a madman. They held tales of a large stone tower that broke through the middle of the city and that Vergil was at fault for raising it.

Johnson snapped back to reality and resolved himself to know why records, including birth records, on his suspect were so few and far between. He wanted to know why whatever files that existed about him, painted him as a great and mighty legend of fairy tales.

Again, he glanced back into the room at the man who seemed larger than life, now reduced to mortal proportions. Had he not known the man's true age, he'd ventured to say that he had a younger brother in college about the same age. If not known…

A nurse excused herself before passing between Johnson and the doorway. She was an older, but fairly attractive brunette dressed in bubbly pink scrubs that were more suited for the pediatrics ward. She quietly regarded her patient, "My, you are looking much better now. There's even some color returning to your face." She continued on to draw a blood sample, taking vitals and ended her visit by writing some notes on a clip board. Before she could turn to leave, there was a massive hand on her shoulder. She gasped and jumped a little. She turned to see Johnson towering just behind her.

"You scared me… you should know better than to sneak up on people."

"My apologies, ma'am. I just wanted to see how Vergil was doing, his companion, Malina asked about him."

"You mean the girl in the waiting area? It's not hard to see why a sweet girl like her would choose to hang out with a nice young man as him." She said that with the knowingness of someone more than a simple acquaintance. He cocked his head to the side, almost to question her without words.

"Do you already know Vergil?"

"More or less… I met Vergil and Dante about two years ago. Along with some colleagues, they ran a private investigation firm, looking into the rather – unusual cases not solved by traditional resources."

"So… were they vigilantes?"

"No. They simply took care of some strange cases. At any rate, I only learned of Dante through a local club show and of Vergil later on, through a case of mistaken identity. Ah… how Dante's voice could make any woman swoon. I have been to many of his shows and never had I seen Vergil there. He said that he preferred serenity and solitude at times. This made him seem a little unsociable, but he is truly a gentleman, like a man from a long forgotten time."

"You sound as if you have known him intimately."

"Heavens, no. A handsome boy as he? I am sure that he was only being polite to me. No… I am probably old enough to be his mother." _If you only knew,_ Johnson thought the words but did not speak them.

The nurse reached down and stroked Vergil's ivory hair. "I don't why, but looking at him just makes me think of those old legends of Sparda."

"Sparda?"

"I am not surprised that you do not know of him," the nurse said, "not may people remember or believe in these old myths and legends. One of the most memorable stories of Sparda began about two thousand years ago when demons roamed the earth. It is said that despite being a demon knight, he took pity on the humans and single handedly took on the demons and defeated them. So that the humans would never have to worry about demons again, he sealed the demons and his powers away in a whole other world. He became a mortal man and fell in love with a mortal woman. The story also goes that before he died, he and the woman bore twin boys. Some even say that they carry on his legacy today, walking and blending among the humans that they must care for."

Johnson asked, "So, this man here reminds you of a demon warrior from long ago?"

"Like I said, I don't know why, but he does. I think that it maybe because Sparda's story is much like his; a story of tragedy and of sacrifice. I had the chance to speak to Malina before her examination and she says that Vergil saved her from an attacker. It seems that his whole life, his family was a damned tragedy. He once confided in me that he lost his father at an early age and all he knew from him were photos and whatever stories his mother told him. He never told me this part, but rumor has it that his mother was killed in a robbery gone wrong, that he and Dante watched the whole thing. As time went on, they were split up. They had spent so many years apart that they became like bitter strangers. They eventually reconciled but no sooner did that happen, Dante's wife passed away and then so did he. In his lifetime, he experienced more than his fair share of tragedy, the loss of his entire family."

The nurse glanced down at her watch to see that she had been in that room for more than twenty minutes. "And here I am, being a Chatty Cathy. I have my rounds and it seems that Vergil is not going to need surgery, but they are going to take him upstairs in a moment –" Her voice trailed off as she began to gently usher the detective away from the room.

Realizing that is was time for him to go, Johnson turned and shook her hand saying, "Thank you for your time Ms. –"

"You can call me Abby," the nurse said as she collected her blood samples and left.

Johnson made his way back to the lounge. In the time spent with the doctor and then the nurse, Malina had been physically examined and she was in the midst of talk with a psychiatrist. Johnson strode up to a vending machine and let out a deep sigh and he brushed his hair back. He injected his coins into the machine and watched as paper cup dropped down and filled with the caffeinated russet liquid. He grabbed his drink and sat on one of the adequately comfortable seats. He sipped it slowly as he began the television mounted high up on a nearby wall. Some idiotic cartoon show where some animal character just got hit over the head with an oversized rubber mallet. The program was probably put on to calm down whatever child that had to spend any time here in the ER. Johnson couldn't help but to close his eyes and rub the bridge of his nose.

He felt the presence of another body sit next to him. "So, how is he?"

Johnson turned to answer his partner's question. He let out a sigh and said, "He won't be saying anything for a while. He's alive, if that's what you mean."

"Good to hear, I guess."

Johnson looked up to see his partner's eyes were glossy, as if he were outside of his mind. "Ralph," Johnson questioned.

"No, not Ralph," his lips moved but the voice was not of his own.

"Who are you?"

"You needn't worry about that… I have come to convince you to drop this case."

"Drop the case? Have you gone crazy? Whatever act you're playing at Ralph, stop it!"

"It seems that I need to try harder," Ralph grasped Johnson's wrist, "close your eyes and see."

Suddenly, Johnson's eyelids were getting heavier and his grip on his coffee cup was getting limp. His head dropped back and his eyes closed. Moments later he jumped up from a similar position, only he was facing himself. "Wha— what's going on," Johnson practically demanded as he looked around himself. "Calm down, will ya," a voice came from beside him. He looked to his left to see a man dressed in a red t-shirt and blue jeans. His arms were outstretched on the backs of the chairs and his head tilted back and to the left with his eyes closed. The thing that freaked him out most was that he was not there before.

"Ya'know, maybe if you weren't so high-strung, you'd probably live longer."

He noticed that the man sitting next to him had that unmistakable tuft of white hair. "Wait you're his brother, aren't you… you're Dante."

"Uh huh."

"Does this mean that I'm –" Before Johnson could begin hyperventilating, Dante with his eyes still closed, cut him off by saying, "No… you are still alive. In fact, to everyone else, you appear to be asleep." He watched his body taking slow and even breaths, confirming Dante's statement.

"What about Ralph," Johnson's attention turned to his partner who was slumped against his chair.

"What _about _Ralph? He's fine… think of him as sleeping too. He won't remember anything, but you will."

"Why do you need me? Have you come to take me away?" Johnson's voice was becoming increasingly panicked.

"No… Geez! I hate repeating myself!" Dante squeezed the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. _Is he really that dense? _"I think I feel a headache coming on."

Dante hopped up from his seat and said, "Listen carefully, Carl, if you continue to pursue this case you'll only succeed in opening Pandora's Box. For now you are curious about the girl and my family history. Soon you'll keep digging and digging and it will never end. You'll drive yourself mad and end up like Arkham."

"Arkham? Where have I heard that name before?"

"Never mind that, just know that he became obsessed and now he's in hell."

Johnson honestly didn't know what to say. His mind couldn't wrap around the fact that he was being visited by a ghost in broad daylight. Low guitar riffs quietly played. They grew louder as Dante fished his Sidekick out of his pocket and flipped it open. He began instant messing. Again, Johnson was slightly amazed that Dante still appeared to be in his early twenties. Johnson mused to himself that Dante reminded him of one of those teenagers he saw on his morning commutes, texting away on their phones. No. He was really more like a gorgeous Baroque angel dressed in urban wares.

Dante finished with his phone and dropped it in his pocket. He grabbed Johnson by the wrist and said "Let's go." There was a flash of bright white light and they were outside and somewhere up high. It was still too bright to open his eyes, but Johnson was sure of their newly gained height due to a terrible gust of wind. Johnson slowly regained his vision to see that they were now standing on the edge of a rooftop. He looked up to see Dante's platinum hair flapping wildly in the wind.

He regained some of his confidence as he asked, shouting to be heard over the wind, "So tell me Dante, was it a ritual gone wrong that did you in?"

"Not really. You could say that it worked," he answered honestly.

"I hadn't taken you for man of rites and procedure. If anything, it seems to be a bit much just to off yourself."

"You're right, I'm not. But you and I both know that you don't believe anything in those reports."

"So you are okay with people believing that you committed suicide?"

"And what makes you believe otherwise? It's not like I care what the living has to say about me."

"You do. You make believe otherwise. I believe that you either had help... or that you were murdered. When you grabbed your cell phone and my arm, you used your right hand. Based the photos, reports, and even your brother's statements, I just don't see how you could have done it. If memory serves, there were cuts on your left and right forearms. Also your right hand had at least second degree burns, according to the photos… You wouldn't have been able to grip the knife properly. No, you didn't do it… even the angle of the knife would have been wrong. It looked more like someone else did it." Johnson remained lost in his thoughts, speaking them aloud until he managed to say, "And those symbols on the floor--"

Dante had to stop him there, "Keep pushin' 'til hurts, huh? Is that what you're gonna do?! That's the type of thinkin' that will only drive you crazy. Just let it all go."

"How can you say that? I would not want _my_ name to go down in flames when I die."

"A name is but a name. For some it will go down in the annals history to be either famous or infamous... and I am neither. When I left my body behind, so too was the name and everything else that associated me with the world of the living. It is not to say that I do not miss them... I do, but the dead simply do not concern themselves with such things. You'll see when your day comes."

"But you still brush it off like it was all for nothing. There's a poor, traumatized girl mixed up in all this and your brother is fighting for his life."

Dante only smiled and crouch on the edge, perched like a bird ready to take flight. He said, "I haven't cast a blind eye. I know what is going on. I only follow the 'Grand Design,' I am not its architect, nor do I know what's in store for everyone... But I do know enough to plan ahead for the task at hand. Malina maybe traumatized from this whole experience, but she's a good kid and she's gonna get help to get through this. As for Vergil, he wasn't meant to die today; in fact he has quite some time ahead of him. That's how it goes; our lineage wouldn't allow one to die so easily." Dante said the latter without thinking and hoped that Johnson was still too dazed to catch on.

"I have a feeling that Malina that was there the night you died. And I also think that your brother defended her from whoever orchestrated your murder. This same person also killed a Wiccian priestess by the name of Aurora with a sword." Dante seethed slightly at the mention his fallen friend's name.

"You think too much," Dante retorted.

"I have reason to believe that –"

"I know well enough, I was there... remember?"

"Then what has you up in arms? Why bring me here?"

"Malina and Vergil have been through enough, so why compound it? As for you, I feel that in all your searches for answers about us, you'll never find any. You will die an old and unhappy man. The worst thing is that your children and their children will be caught up in that never-ending cycle. I know that you crave information and I hope that what I tell you will satisfy your hunger. What I say must never leave this rooftop. If you mention it anywhere, at anytime, I swear I will strike you down where you stand."

Johnson shakily sat next to Dante with ears trained on what was going to be said. "I can't believe that I'm gonna say this," Dante said looking down at the cars below, "This is a secret that I have kept since I was little. I can't imagine what it could do to Vergil if you knew."

Dante took a deep breath and said, "A nurse named Abby already gave you details earlier, about a demon knight named Sparda."

"Yeah. She said that your brother reminds her of Sparda. What's that got to do with an old myth?"

"There's a reason why she was reminded of him. It wasn't a myth. Like she said, Sparda and a human had twins, Vergil and me. Whatever records that you may have read about Temen-Ni-Gru, that castle on Mallet, Fortuna, and even Dumary Island were true. Vergil and I weren't exactly born humans, but we made it our job to protect them. Our mother tried her hardest to raise us well. We were taught not to fight, unless it was in a spar. When we started exhibit some demonic powers, we were home schooled for fear of what we could do to other children. For years, Vergil was my only friend. You ask why there are no records about us... They are there, but they are just too unbelievable. I mean... would you believe police reports about a man who consistently gets arrested only to disappear in police custody?"

Johnson tried hard to digest Dante's words, but they were too unfathomable. "Demons... do ... not... exist."

"Oh, they do and I once was one. How do you explain why your men could not tail Vergil for even a second, without him noticing? Or what about Vergil himself? He sustained injuries that would have killed a normal man. Not only is he alive, but he is healing himself. I'm pretty sure that if you shot him in the head now, he still wouldn't die... but you'd probably only succeed in making him very angry. I'd possess you now so that you would see, but I would only scare you farther. Most people will only believe what they see. But you _have_ seen... may be forgotten?"

Dante spoke the latter slowly and Johnson fell, hypnotized into the spell of his clear blue eyes. Johnson's mind flashed far back into long repressed years.

_He was a boy now, trapped in between a wall and a wave of advancing flames. His face and clothes were covered in soot now and his lungs were convulsing in his chest, yearning for air. Hot orange and red tongues licked at him. His life was being threatened by not only the fire, but a grotesque beast covered in a tough, brown and purple hide. It spread its claws and massive jaw ready to enjoy his fast. It already finished off a woman, a family friend that offered to watch young Carl as his parents went to the theatre. It was already known that she was a child of Wicca that exhibited very little power. Still she burned sage for protection and scryed for demons to help those in her craft. Scrying... She was still holding her crystal when the boy watched her ripped limb from limb. Thank goodness she was longer alive when it happened. The demon stepped closer, but halted in his stride. Three shots rang out and the beast crumpled to the floor with its black blood seeping into the floor boards._

_Carl could hardly believe it... he was saved. "You okay kid," a voice asked. He more surprised to see that the voice originated just in front of him. The owner of the voice crouched down to meet eye level with the boy. "Hey, kid!" He could not muster a single word. He could only stare at the man that saved him. He wore loosely fitting combat boots with loose and worn, tan leather pants tucked into them. The only top he wore was a long red leather trench coat. The most eye-catching thing about the man was his snow white hair that was illuminated in the fire. "Uh... kid blink twice if you can hear me." He looked into the man's crystalline eyes and obeyed._

Johnson blinked again and snapped back to reality. "It was you... you were there that night. You saved my life." Dante didn't answer, only looked away. "I don't know why I didn't see it before. The answer was right in front of my eyes, the entire time." Johnson's words were wistful.

Dante stood up standing on the edge, staring at the cars criss-crossing the streets below. "You know now–" Dante's voice trailed off. Johnson also brought himself to his feet. "You breathe a word of this to anyone –?" Dante's voice was a little more forceful this time a he gripped the man's shoulder.

"N-No."

"Good." Dante's expression softened as he said it.

Before Johnson knew it, he was tumbling down the side of the building, falling towards the street below. He screamed as he realized that he was going to collide with a car just beneath him. Then everything went black. Not even fade to black or darkness encroaching, just cut to black.

* * *

Not my proudest of achievements, but I did accomplish something... I have been dancing around this fic for a long time. I _do_ have an ending, but its taking longer than expected. Constructive criticisms are greatly appreciated.


	11. When All Is Said

**A/N: **Back by popular demand! Psych! This has been a journey in the making and now this fic has ended in about 107 pages! Whew! It's the final countdown and I did promise you all a surprise... You get to choose the ending. I included two, because I just couldn't decide. So your only job is to sit back and enjoy, let me know which the conclusion suits your fancy, and help me tie up some loose ends... You all have the final word!

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Chapter 11: When All Is Said…

The sounds approached him first... the lively background music of a cartoon. Cartoon? Wasn't he watching some cartoon earlier? Johnson opened his eyes to see that he was still sitting in the waiting room. He glanced up at the wall-mounted TV to see that the stupid character was hit in the head with a mallet again. It was as if time had stood still while he had his conversation. Was it all a dream? A talk with a ghost... who'd believe it? No. It was too vivid to be a simple reverie.

Johnson looked to his side to see that his partner seemed to napping in the chair next to his. He reached over and shook Ralph awake.

"Huh? Wha-?"

"Back to work, Ralph."

As soon a Ralph was a little more alert, Johnson and his partner talked for a while, mainly about the answers Malina gave in his absence. The more Ralph spoke, the more Carl's suspicions made known to Dante were confirmed.

"The girl's smart," Ralph said, "she's just a little aloof. I believe she told us the truth, but she was careful to leave things out. There were a few times I asked her about Arinna's whereabouts and she either avoided the question or said that no one will find her."

"So you think that Arinna's dead, but the girl's not talking."

"Not necessarily. With all the things Malina says, you'd think that Arinna is dead. But logistics just say that she's alive somewhere. We have blood evidence and a weapon, but no body."

"It all boils down to Vergil."

"Exactly. He could have killed her in Malina's defense, but there's no body. What time could they have to dispose of it... Sometime between him almost bleeding to death or her calling out for help? That's the conundrum."

In any normal case, this brainstorm would be pretty reasonable. Mortal logic, given the incident and time constraints would place the woman as still living. But in the demon world, logic meant nothing and boy, did Carl know it. The worst part was that he knew that Arinna was dead and he couldn't tell his partner the truth. And how could he? There was just no explanation that he could offer without sounding like a nut.

"Sounds like a pickle... We'll just have to write it up and maybe some poor soul will come along later to solve it," Carl lied. He could solve it now and be rid of this case forever. But out of fear of Dante, he kept his mouth shut. Carl went for another cup of coffee and a honey bun from the vending machine. As his partner snacked, Ralph went to find out where they moved Vergil.

Now, Vergil was could no longer be considered a suspect. Malina had confirmed for them that had nothing to do with her disappearance or Aurora's death and attested that others at her old coven could verify the facts. But still, just to be thorough, it would be prudent to get his statement. Some time later they were on the second floor and making their way to his room. They stopped just shy of the doorway to talk to yet another doctor.

He quietly exited the room and spoke to the detectives, "The folks downstairs already told me that you two were coming here. He's starting to wake up, but he may still be too groggy to give you straight answers. Please keep your questions at a limit." With that the doctor continued on to his rounds. The two cops entered the room and approached the bed closest to the window.

Vergil lay in the bed with nourishment and painkillers feed to him intravenously and air supplied by a nasal cannula. The two approached the seemingly sleeping man. They hadn't gotten within a foot of the bed when Vergil asked with eyes still closed, "Is Malina okay?" The cops were a little taken aback, that Vergil was able to sense their quiet presence in his drugged state.

"She's fine," Ralph answered, "We'll send her in to see you a little bit later." Vergil brought his non-IVed hand up to run through his hair. He sighed and opened his eyes. Was it a sigh of relief or was it sign of his sheer exhaustion? He had been running through an insane gauntlet nearly all month and into an equally tough pinnacle today. It was even far beyond him to know just what this sigh was.

"Vergil, I won't mince words," Ralph began in a low, even voice, "We came to ask you about the events that led up today, including the whereabouts of Arrina. I understand that you maybe very tired, but we need as much information as we can get and we need it as quickly as possible."

"What do you want to know," Vergil replied with a strained voice.

Ralph pulled a small note pad out of his breast pocket said, "Why don't we start from the beginning? I believe that it was your brother's case that was jumping-off point for all of this. Can you tell me about this?" Since his conversation with Dante, Carl had taken a backseat to Ralph during the investigation. He had slackened the reigns and Ralph took them up.

"What's there to say? Dante was murdered and the perpetrator was found." Vergil's azure eyes met with Ralph's and shifted to Carl.

"So what happened? You seem to believe that a young woman from a local Wiccian coven killed your brother. What happened to her?"

"Are you referring to Arinna," Vergil cryptically asked.

Ralph was wearing thin on patience. He let out a low growl, ready to yank up the half-devil by the scruff of his hospital gown, but instead he allowed Vergil to continue. "If you are talking about her, I can tell you that she will not be found." He continued to explain had happened, taking care to omit the parts concerning his and Arinna— or Lilith's demonic heritage.

"So she attacked you and the girl and you fought back in self-defense? Is she still alive? Where is she?"

"I have no idea," he lied, "I guessing that after that fight, she skipped town."

Realizing that he wasn't going to get any more answers from the white-haired man, Ralph began wrapping up his questioning. "Okay... we're going to allow you to get your rest, but we'll be in touch." They shook hands and the two detectives took their exit, leaving Vergil to succumb to sleep again.

--

Malina sat in a waiting room not too far from the ward that Vergil was being cared for. The clothes that she wore into the hospital were disposed of; traded for a clean set of powder blue scrubs. She stretched back on the semi-comfortable chairs as she restlessly swung her legs back and forth. She was truly grateful to the nurses for allowing her to have use of a show and her current clothing. She hadn't felt this good in weeks. But, her thoughts were still on Vergil. It had been sometime since she was updated on his condition and when it came down to it, she couldn't be sure that he was still alive. Normally, she would not have bothered to worry about a demon, not because of the intense hatred that she once harbored for them; but for the fact that they could heal themselves, making them virtually indestructible. Then again, if someone as strong as Dante could die, the grim reasoning stood that so could Vergil.

Her thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of music wafting down the halls. Malina brought herself to her feet and made a full circle as she tried to discern which direction the gentle guitar melody came. She deduced the direction and began to follow the pleasant sounds. She pursued the strums from a Spanish guitar to an empty hospital room.

She walked in to see a boy about her age sitting on a gurney while deftly playing a black and orange guitar. He had long raven hair and with the same color covering his nails. He was dressed normally in a plain black tee shirt and blue jeans. He continue to play, unknowing her company. When he ended his song, she applauded. Just then he looked up to thank his audience that had mainly gone unnoticed. His sparkling green eyes met with hers and he made a gentlemanly bow. "I didn't know anyone was watching," he said nervously as he put a hand up to the back of his head.

"Are you a patient here," she asked the boy.

"No... I'm actually just waiting for someone," he replied, "what about you? You seem to be a little too young to be a doctor or nurse."

"Oh, no," she chuckled, "My friend was admitted here this morning and the nurse let me wear these scrubs because my clothes got all messed up."

"Aw... that's too bad about your friend. Is he gonna be okay?" The boy's eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"I honestly don't know," she said as she bowed her head.

"Well, I hope your friend gets well soon. Scratch that. I know he will; it is only a matter of time. What you need to is to concentrate on what you are going to do for him when he gets better." His lips spread into a grin to convey his optimism. He obliviously knew that it was no use to stay gloomy in a place that was already wrought with disease and death.

"I- I –I don't know what I could do for him."

"Hmm," he put a finger to his chin, "You did say that your friend is a dude, right?" Malina nodded. "Well, flowers are out of the question and cards and balloons are just too cheesy. The thing that's really going to lift his spirits is something from the heart."

"I haven't known him that long, so I don't know what he likes."

"Ya'know... When ever my brother got sick I played a little song for him. That seemed to brighten up his day." He began to aimlessly strumming his guitar. "Do you sing," he asked.

"Nooo," she said shyly, "I've never been very good at music."

"How 'bout I teach you something," he said with his eyes still on his guitar.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it won't take long... Plus I just _know _that he'll love. Best case scenario, you walk away knowing some things about music, the worst thing would probably be that _thesongwillcomeouthorribly_," he said the last bit in a single breath hoping that she didn't catch it. She did and he smiled wide and exclaimed, "Kidding! Okay? It'll be fine." In the end, it was his dazzling eyes and smile that won her over. She agreed to learn a song as a gift to Vergil.

"Hmm, a simple melody," he thought aloud. "What's your friend's name?"

"Vergil."

"A song for Vergil... here we go." The boy really thought hard about an easy tune for her to learn that wasn't public domain. "Okay, I got," he exclaimed as he began playing the instrument. His skilled fingers plucking gentle notes, beginning with a D, into an F sharp, and back and forth. He moved into a B minor, then G major, and on into A. He suspended the A and continued into a repetition. "Okay... the lyrics to this song doesn't really go with your current situation... In fact the lyrics are a little 'stalkerish', but the melody is pretty."

"I know this song," her voice brightened, "Its 'Hey There Delilah'."

"Yep, and good thing that it's easy. There are only a couple of main cords that you need to know. The tricky part comes from switching your fingering." He gave a quick example placing his fingers on specified strings and in between certain frets. "Then you're gonna pluck these strings like this." He began alternating between the second and fifth strings.

He handed her his guitar came around behind her to assist. "Right or left handed."

"Right."

"Good." He orientated the instrument for her. "Your right hand is for plucking and your left is in control of the cords."

For a while he assisted with fingering and plucking until she got the hang of it on her own. An hour had passed and she was playing quite well, albeit a bit haltingly. "Look's like you're ready to present your gift," the boy said.

"Uh... I don't know—"

"You'll do great!"

"Thank you," she said sheepishly, "I didn't catch your name."

"Seth."

"Thank you, Seth," she said trying to pass his guitar back to him.

"The pleasure is mine, miss—," he raised an eyebrow signaling that he wanted to know the girl's name.

"Malina."

"And a beautiful name that suits a girl of the same. You can keep the guitar," he said, "just try your best for your friend is all I ask."

"Hey, you said that you're waiting on someone."

"Yeah, we'll meet in a little while longer and you and I shall meet again someday," with that, Seth was gone from the room and maybe even her life.

Malina stepped out of the room and down the hall. She was eventually picked up by Johnson and escorted to Vergil's room. She hesitantly approached his bed, only to find him asleep. "Vergil?" There was no response, not even a twitch. She took her guitar and sat in a chair facing the bed and studied the man before her. There was an eeriness to the serenity in his face. She knew that he was in a drug induced sleep, but it all seemed so similar the expression on his face in that alley.

She turned to the window and watched the raindrops patter softly on the window pane. As the water dressed the glass in a lovely haze, she began her song. She gingerly moved her fingers as best as she could, trying not to wake Vergil, or the rest of the ward for that matter. She continued... a private show for her latent audience.

After a while, she stopped and leaned the guitar against the wall. "Please," Vergil's low, scratchy voice from across the room, "Please... don't stop. You play beautifully."

"Thanks," she said with a slight blush. She obliged his request. "It's nothing really. Someone taught how to play a little while ago," she said, "How do you feel?"

With a slight groan, he said, "Your music and the morphine helps a lot. Who taught you?"

"A boy down the hall. He said his name was Seth. The funny thing was that I felt like I have met him before, but I know I have never laid eyes on him." Vergil was a little surprised by her answer but he hid it behind a low chuckle. "When I was much younger and had the flu, I remember that Dante came into my room and played songs for me. To tell you the truth, he was quite horrible at it, at the time. I remember throwing a shoe at him. I didn't appreciate it much back then, but now I realize that he was merely trying to distract me from my sickness." As he spoke, his gaze wavered from her face and out to the rain soaked world past the window. "Now that I think about it, Seth being here just may be my brother's way of reminding me of that much simpler time. Maybe Dante is just living up to his promise."

Without warning, Malina shot up and wrapped her arms around Vergil. He winced lightly at the pressure she was causing. He began to blush slightly at the sudden show of affection and hoped that she didn't see. "Hey, now! I'm not back to one hundred percent."

"I know," she replied with eyes tearing up, "I'm just glad to have you back."

--

Some months later, Vergil was back to full health and expertly fighting off hordes of demons as he once had. Trish and Lucia were glad to have him back, the elegant fighter and the man who had turned over a new leaf; the man who once nearly destroyed humankind had learned to be more peaceful and settled his hostilities.

Malina had gone back to her coven and was welcomed with open arms. She found a guardian in Vergil, who kept an eye one her and made it his duty to teach her combat. Not that she needed it.

A few locks of hair began to turn stark white It seemed that she had indeed inherited the late hunter's abilities. Not only was she able to heal almost instantaneously, she began displaying some very familiar sword skills. She was already a formidable swords_woman_. Still, it didn't hurt to spar once and a while.

Both he and Malina fought side by side understanding more of the other species. She learned that not all demons are evil and he was beginning to warm up more to humans.

Vergil stood in a road facing a monstrous figure stretching its eight foot tall frame through a portal. He didn't bother getting into a fighting stance. He only stood in a comfortable stance and brushed the front of his trademark blue coat to reveal his O-katana. "Return back to your world now, or die," he calmly said. The wind wisped around him, rippling through his clothes and hair. The dark clouds gathered in the skies above. "You, a mere mortal dare challenge me," the creature spat out in a guttural voice.

Vergil went to draw his sword when he sense movement behind him. "Didn't I tell you to evacuate the people," he hissed without looking over his shoulder. A figure approached from behind dressed in a forest green cloak. The cloaked one removed the hood. It was Malina readying herself for a fight with a gleaming straight sword. "Well, I couldn't let you have all the fun."

"Very well, then," he replied, "It's about time to get this show on the roll."

Malina leaned in taunting the monster with gestures that just screamed, _just bring it!_ She twirled her sword around before saying, "Let's Rock." With that she charged in.

"Hurry up, old man," she shouted back to Vergil.

"Show off," he muttered with a slight grin before joining the fray.

The End

* * *

Let me just say that:

A.) This stuff that just happened is most likely not real police or hospital procedure.

B.) "Hey There Delilah"... Just because the song is fairly easy to play. First thing that cam to mind

C.) I tried to gauge you the readers and wasn't sure if a Deus Ex Machina ending would offend you. So with that... I thank you all who have stopped by to read, review me to help me grow, subscribed and added me or this story to your alerts.

Boos? Or Applause? Now you have some decisions to make, so get cracking!


	12. Epilogue

**A/N: **_I am a person of my word and I have promised a kind of omake or epilogue for Lady Luce. Enjoy! EDIT: 11/15/2008 No real changes here, just rearranging a chapter._

* * *

Epilogue:

Vergil and Malina made their way up the hilly the cemetery to three white headstones. There they laid flowers for Eva, Lady and Dante who was buried between the two. He shed a tear for his fallen family and nothing more, keeping with the old saying, "Devils never cry." Vergil crouched near Dante's head stone and began speaking to Malina, "A long time ago, Dante and I used to come out here to lay flowers on Mom's grave and reminisce about at least one good thing we remembered." Vergil let out a small sigh. "I haven't known Lady that long, but she still supported Dante in taking me in after I escaped from the underworld. Mom... I remembered that no matter what was going on, she always had time to play with us. And there was Dante, always being Dante. It's so hard to pick just one instance. He was perpetually kind and carefree; despite the hand life dealt him. I remember that he used to be afraid of the dark and I of lightning. In the middle of the night or during a storm, he and I always found ourselves huddled in the same, tiny, twin-sized bed. Back in the orphanage, he would be slated for adoption and time and time again he would sabotage his own chances for a new family because it meant that we would be split up."

"It seems that even back then, he was always thinking of you."

"And here I was, treating him badly because I couldn't get my own head out of my ass."

"He never treated me unfairly, but I couldn't see past _what_ he was."

"We both have sins to atone for," Vergil finally said.

"I'm going to head on back," Malina said, knowing that Vergil would need some alone time.

Vergil stood in front of that granite head stone for what seemed like an eternity. He stood so still that a passer by would have probably mistaken him for a statue. "Aww, why the long face, Verg," he heard a voice say. His head snapped up to just above the grave site he was staring at. A familiar figure stood behind the headstone with his elbows resting on the top and his hands holding his face.

The same height, same build and the same white hair that complemented the very same cerulean eyes. "Dante... you always do have a way of popping up in the most unexpected places."

"Unexpected," Dante questioned as he stepped out from behind his own grave, "I knew that I would find you here. I take it that Malina is doing well. How's Trish and Lucia?"

"They're fine. They are just a little freaked out right now."

"Hmm. How so?"

"It seems that a certain someone or some _spirit_as been secretly leaving little trinkets around the house." Vergil was giving Dante something akin to a sideways look.

"What me," Dante asked with mock reproach. "I couldn't help it! It's not like they believe that beyond-the-grave stuff anyhow. So..."

"So..." Vergil picked up a white flower. "Any luck getting in?"

"Into heaven? No, not yet. My case is still in 'review'." Dante picked up a red flower and looked around. His eyes finally settled on his mother's grave. "I still do—," he trailed off.

"Miss us," Vergil finished. Dante nodded. "Mom, Lady, and you were the last thing I saw in this life," Dante softly said, "And there's a real chance that I won't be able to see them again; not that I'm upset about it. They're in a better place, right?"

Dante put on a grin and said, "There's no use in being so glum. What brings you out here? It's not any of our birthdays or anniversaries to speak of..."

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"A lot of things... Do you remember when were about eight and we had separate rooms for the first time?"

"Yeah... it was a disaster. I refused to sleep alone. I used to climb into the same bed as you and then you'd say that I was banned because I took up too much room and too much of the blankets."

"Yeah. But the truth was that I didn't mind it, because I was just as afraid of being alone. I remembered that your breathing matched my own and that's what comforted me the most. Do you remember the crazy things you did to keep yourself from being adopted?"

Dante let out a small chuckle confirming the shared memory. "I remember that you did some equally crazy stuff. But it boiled down to the same thing; I didn't want to be alone. Knowing that I was going to be carted off to some strange family scared me more than anything."

"Two sides of the same coin...I guess we were just that lucky to have each other."

Dante reached into his pocket and tossed Vergil something metallic and slightly heavy. Vergil caught it any looked down at the object in his hand. It was a two-headed coin. "We make our own luck," he heard Dante say. He looked up to see that his twin had disappeared and the red flower that he once held was now resting the granite stone, just above the epitaph, "Dante Redgrave: Beloved brother and friend. A greater friend to man than Prometheus."

* * *

_How'd you like it? I am still open to requests and suggestion (despite what my status says.) Prometheus was a friend to man... he brought us fire. This is great way to describe Dante here because Dante protects humans from demons and Prometheus shielded man from the pushy Greek gods of Olympus. What do you think?_


	13. Alternate Ending

**A/N:** _This is for those who still couldn't stomach that Dante was no more in the story that I had just told._

* * *

Alternate Ending:

Vergil lay, enveloped in darkness, only hearing the light sounds of an acoustic guitar playing. He slowly opened his eyes allowing some light to invade his vision. He squinted his azure eyes filtering out some of the sun's rays. Daylight. Was he still in the hospital? No. He made out the patterns of the blue covers that he deduced as his own. His eyes searched around the room and settled on a blurry figure that seemed to sit in a chair in the corner. The figure sat hunched over a large piece of wood, fiddling with a peg at the end. A guitar maybe? That would explain the music before.

Thing that really registered was the fact that figure had snowy-white hair just like his own. "Who's there," his voice hoarse and dry. He asked despite knowing.

"Vergil," came back as the blurred visage of his brother put the guitar down to his side before getting up to approach the bed.

"Dante? You're..." he paused mid sentence feeling disoriented, "...You're alive?"

"Alive? I guess you must have hit your head harder than we thought," Dante teased. "Hey, Trish," he turned his head to shout out the open door behind him, "He's awake! Your husband's gonna be fine!"

"Husband," he thought aloud. Yes. It was all starting coming back to him now.

Dante handed Vergil a glass of water that was already on his night table. Dante assisted his brother in sitting his still aching body upright and tilted the glass so Vergil could take some sips. "We were worried about you," Dante's voice was serious; "You were out for the better part of a week and running a helluva fever."

"What happened?" He mind was still foggy, as he tried to piece together his missing moments.

"Well you and I went to clear out some succubae who were feeding on humans. One managed to get some bites out of us and left you with a few less pints of blood." The effects of the succubus' venom would explain why his body was aching all over and that he could barely see straight. His mind flashed to the moment where he was fading into unconsciousness and Dante calling out his name while still in the midst of his own battle. _"Vergeee!" _

Had he not been a demon, he surely would not have survived the attack.

Vergil glanced in the corner at the guitar. "Were you trying to serenade me as I slumbered," he teased.

"Pfft! Don't flatter yourself! I got a gig tomorrow night," Dante's voice was getting high and defensive.

"Just the same... Thanks"

"No probs," Dante's features softened. "Oh! I got a surprise for you!" Dante quickly left the room. Vergil looked around just until his vision had finally cleared. Soon he was able to hear Dante clicking his tongue and whispering, "Hey, hey," over the soft sounds of a crying baby in the hallway. He brought over to the bed a small mass swaddled in pink blankets. The baby fussed a little as she was brought lower into Vergil's view.

"There's someone you should meet," Dante said softly. At first Vergil was a little anxious at seeing the newborn, thinking that his wife had a child that he forgot about. That was all quelled once he saw her. She had hair like ebony and the same deep oceanic eyes that her father possessed. "She was born just two nights ago and I think it's about time her uncle said hello."

Dante gently placed his daughter in Vergil's arms, confident that his brother had enough muscle control to hold his child.

A smile tugs at her face and Dante said, "I think she likes you." Vergil had never felt so at ease with a baby in his arms. He held her and watched as she quietly yawned and blink her drowsy eyes.

"Huh... Luck I guess. I don't think that I'm the fatherly type."

"I think Virginia here would disagree with you."

Vergil instantly recognizes that she is named after him and is a little taken aback by it. "You named her –?"

"Yes," Dante finished for him, "Lady and I named her Virginia Rose... after you."

Vergil was utterly speechless. He only managed to ask, "How is she... How's Lady?"

"She fine... She's in the other room napping." Dante picked up the baby again and began gently rocking her to sleep. "She must have been exhausted, I know. This little one put up a fight for nearly forty hours, but Lady was no slouch either." He watch as the infant stretched and let out another yawn. "Hey, kiddo," Dante gingerly said to Virginia.

"It's about time for me to get this one to bed and you need your rest too." Dante began his steps for the door until Vergil called out to him, "Was it all worth it?"

Dante thought about it and verbalized, "From where I stand, yeah... but then again I've only had this job for a few days now. What will be, will be." Dante looked back at Vergil's face only to see that expression his brother made when he was thinking too much.

"What's on your mind?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing much... just a very strange dream I just had."

"What was is?"

Vergil only smiled and said, "You wouldn't believe me, even if I told you."


End file.
